


Faustus (Dance With the Devil)

by Thelittlescrimshaw



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Deal with the Devil AU, Demon!Kylo, F/M, Inspired by Faust, Master/Apprentice, Multichapter, Satan AU, Satan!Kylo, slow-ish-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelittlescrimshaw/pseuds/Thelittlescrimshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had yellow eyes, black hair, a narrow jaw, and – Rey could scarcely believe it – twin horns rising from his head. He regarded her with something very old and very unreadable in his gaze, and Rey couldn’t look away.</p><p>“Only Death can outrun the Devil,” he said, voice low and quiet. “Yet you are neither. So tell me: what are you?”<br/>...<br/>In which Rey challenges Satan to a race, and wins more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Runner

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies! This is the beginning chapter to [this drabble](http://littlemanicmonday.tumblr.com/post/150188415663/faustus-dance-with-the-devil) on my tumblr. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I'm going to be doing this in some sort of chronological order, so that segment won't appear for a bit yet D;
> 
> Shoutout to lucidlucy for being a sounding board :D 
> 
> In which Rey challenges the Devil to a race, and wins. Multichap.

Rey followed Finn, Poe, and Jessika up the hill in the woods, careful to avoid the patches of poison ivy. It was October 30th, mischief night; they were guided by Poe’s sense of direction, their path illuminated by the half-moon. Rey had her phone on her, but it would be next to useless – they were truly in the middle of nowhere, having left even the farms behind several miles back.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” she called to Poe, who had just clambered over a massive fallen tree trunk.

“Ye of little faith!” Poe said. Rey exchanged a look with Jessika, who shrugged. They followed Poe, their sneakers crunching on the dead leaves. At least it was dry, Rey figured; nothing was worse than damp fall nights.

As the trees thinned out, they came upon a field; within that field was a small wooden building, the white paint chipped. It had a steep roof, topped with a small cross. It was an abandoned church – Quaker, Poe had said, but Rey wasn’t too sure – stood next to a graveyard.

And _that_ was their destination.

“Told you,” Poe said, smug. Another group, maybe half a dozen of Poe’s friends, were waiting for them. Poe waved his hand and headed toward them.

“Never doubted you,” Jessika said with a grin. Rey rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe that she let her friends talk her into this – it was _cold,_ they were in the middle of _nowhere,_ and it was all for some stupid _bet._

“Hope you brought your running shoes,” one of the girls, a blonde, said as they approached. Another guy offered Poe a beer from one of the cases on the ground. There was a fire going, and some of the guys were using tree stumps as makeshift seats.

Another guy – Rey recognized him as Anthony, a guy she’d had a chem lab with – snorted. “You realize this is all bogus, right?”

Rey was inclined to agree. The only reason she even came along was because Finn had persuaded her, and it was more appealing than spending Halloweekend alone.

“It’s not though,” Jessika countered. “Weird shit happens up here all the time. The church used to be used as a cult house. People get driven off roads.”

“She’s right,” Poe said. He took a sip of the hard cider. “I had an uncle who did this – took a Ouija board out here, and heard _screams_ from the church.”

Rey snorted. “It was probably cats mating, Poe.” She walked over to the case of beer and went to get herself one. If she had to put up with this nonsense, she should at least be a little buzzed. But her pursuit of alcohol was stopped by Jessika.

“Nope,” Jess said, swatting her hand away. “You’re our runner. You’re staying clean.”

Rey groaned. Finn clasped her on the shoulder. “Sorry, peanut,” he said. “You got this.”

“You’re all the _worst,”_ Rey told them. She kicked a dead leaf. “I don’t get why you want me to do this. It’s just a backwater folktale, nothing more.” She tugged the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, kicking herself for not wearing gloves. The mountain air was thin and cold, and the heat of the bonfire only got her so far.

“You can have s’mores when you come back,” Anthony said with a grin, waving an unopened bag of marshmallows in her direction.

“ _If_ she comes back,” a girl named Mary corrected. Rey shot a glare in her direction. Leave it to the Appalachian girl to subscribe to this devil bullshit.

“It’s a wonder you got into college,” Rey said dryly, not particularly caring if she stepped on some feelings tonight. Before Mary could respond – and oh, Rey must’ve struck a nerve, the girl’s face was _so red_ – Poe stepped in.

“So this is how it works,” Poe said to Rey. “You go to the graveyard, and you touch the first headstone on your right. Allegedly, that summons the devil. Then, you race him.”

Rey frowned. “To where?”

“End of the graveyard, around the church, back to the headstone in the front. The gate goes around the church, so you don't have to hop it.”

The way Poe spoke – with such gravitas – was so at odds with the whole thing. Rey would acknowledge that being out in the middle of nowhere, alone, at night, near an old graveyard and an alleged cult house – it was creepy. Like, the first five minutes of a horror flick creepy. Like, _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ creepy.

But racing the Devil? Maybe it was her atheist ass talking, but if she were a devil, she’d have _much_ more important things to do.

“And I’m guessing I go in alone, and your lazy asses get to stay here?” Rey said, her tone a bit caustic.

“We can go with you,” Jess said, “We just can’t touch the stone. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

“ _If_ she gets back,” Mary chimed in. Rey ignored her.

“Fine,” she said, straightening her sweater. “Let’s get this over with.”

They all ambled over to the entrance of the graveyard. The cast-iron fence had been destroyed in some areas, and the gate hung open. Poe led the way, Rey shortly behind with Finn at her side. He gave her hand a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. This is all hokey.”

“ _I_ know that,” Rey muttered. “I just don’t get why you volunteered _me._ ”

“You’re the fastest on campus. Everyone knows that.”

Rey sighed – that much was true. She was fast, had spent most of her life running, and hadn’t peaked in high school like some other runners had. “I’m glad you think I’m fast enough to outrun the devil, Finn.”

He nudged her with his shoulder. “You’re fast enough to outrun death, peanut.”

Much as she was loathe to admit, Rey _did_ feel that atmosphere change as they stepped over the threshold into the graveyard. _Mind over matter,_ she reminded herself. Graveyards were inherently creepy – _dead_ people were _buried_ there. It didn’t mean anything.

She was a woman of science, dammit, and she wouldn’t be swayed by an Appalachian myth.

Poe walked up to one headstone in particular. It was utterly unremarkable, the epitaph illegible, the grass around it dry and overgrown. “Here,” he said. “You touch this, you run around, and meet us back here.”

“And you all owe me twenty dollars _when_ I get back,” Rey reminded him. _That_ was why she’d taken the bet, the money – but she was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

She knelt down and retied her sneakers, making sure she wouldn’t trip over the laces. She adjusted the waistband of her leggings, and reached into her hoodie pocket to give her phone to Finn.

“Uhh,” he said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“What, afraid I won’t make it?” Rey asked, too-innocently. Mary paled. Anthony snorted. Finn looked stricken.

“Relax,” Rey said. “I don’t want to drop it. If I’m not back in five minutes, assume I fell or something.”

She stretched a bit, mostly for show. Then she let her fingers brush the top of the gravestone and was off like a light.

* * *

Whether or not the devil was on her heels was irrelevant – a sadistic part of Rey wanted to give them a show. She had half a mind to stay back, to make them look for her and have a good laugh – but there was something that spurred her on, made her run faster. The cold air stung her lungs, whipped against her face and urged her on.

She ran straight through the graveyard, made a sharp turn around the house.  She was officially out of the sight of her friends and the bonfire now, the path before her lit with only moonlight. She ignored the shadows on either side of her and concentrated on not tripping over the fallen leaves. She was at the furthest point from her friends, and she could see the gate hanging open in front of her.

It was then that the scenery around her began to change.  The shadows swirled, the wind whipped, and Rey ran smack into something solid and _hot._ She fell back on her ass, skidded with the force of it.

…how fast _had_ she been running? And _what_ had she run into?

Rey looked up. A figure in black loomed above her, the wind whipping the leaves around it. She scrambled to her feet and made to bolt back, but she stood frozen to the spot. Something primal awoke in her veins, something that warned her that she was merely a human, and that there were things out there that would make a meal of her.

Her mouth went dry and her blood ran cold. She could hear her heart thudding in her chest.

The figure stepped forward, making no sound, and took off a cowl, revealing a masculine face. He had yellow eyes, black hair, a narrow jaw, and – Rey could scarcely believe it – twin horns rising from his head. His bare torso was covered in swirling black tattoos, written in a language Rey couldn't read. He regarded her with something very old and very unreadable in his eyes, and Rey couldn’t look away.

“Only Death can outrun the Devil,” he said, voice low and quiet. “Yet you are neither. So tell me: what are you?”

There was something in his voice, something feral and strange and exhilarating hiding just underneath the surface of his civil words. Fueled by equal parts adrenaline and stupidity, Rey said, “I’m no one. Just Rey.”

“Not _who,”_ the creature said, stepping forward again until he was mere inches from her. He was tall, so tall, that he had to lean down to make his gaze level with hers.  “But _what?”_

“H-human.”

He straightened. “Human.”

Rey found herself babbling, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate need to _not get dragged to hell by the devil,_ because _oh my god this myth is real._ “I – my friends – there’s a legend – they made me run, you know, I’m fast, and I didn’t think anything would happen, but you’re here, and –“

“Careful, little bird,” he said, a corner of his mouth tugging up. His hand came out, as if to touch her. Rey braced herself, but he dropped it back to his side. “Your disbelief does not make it less true.” 

“So it _is_ true,” Rey said, breathless. “You – you’re the Devil. _Satan._ There’s a god. It’s _all true.”_

The Devil scoffed. “Hardly. You humans have a way of oversimplifying it. There are many roles to fill. _Mine_ is that of the Adversary – the Christian Satan, as you so eloquently put it. You tapped my headstone. You challenged me to this race. And you – a _human,_ you claim to be – have won.”

Rey wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Her head was reeling and her heart was beating so fast she was surprised she hadn’t passed out. She steeled herself, and asked, “So I won. What does that mean.”

“It means,” he said at length, “That I am bound to give you a boon.”

Rey frowned. “Boon?”

For Satan, he sure looked exasperated. “A wish, a stroke of luck, a favor.”

“I – _anything?_ How do I – what – “ he waved a hand, and Rey felt the words die on her tongue.

“There is no need to decide now. You have a year and a day to finish your request. You will summon me at a crossroads, a place both betwixt and between, and I will grant you one favor. This is the deal you consented to when you challenged me.”

Rey found that she could speak again. “That’s it? That’s all someone has to do to get a favor from – from _Satan?”_

His yellow eyes flashed and he grit his teeth. He disappeared and materialized a hair’s breadth in front of her, teeth bared. “I would not encourage your human friends to partake in the challenge,” he growled. “You claim to be one of them. But _I_ can smell it on you. No human can outrun me. These are my terms. You have a year and a day.”

And with that, he disappeared.

The shadows retreated, the moon returned, and Rey found herself completely and utterly exhausted. She fell to her knees, dimly aware of her friends shouting her name in the background. She heard the pounding of footsteps and felt Finn’s hands underneath her head, but it was as if she were dreaming.

* * *

She came to in the car.

Poe was driving like a maniac, Finn in the passenger seat; Rey’s head was in Jess’ lap. Jess was hysterical, saying _oh god oh god oh god_ , and behind them –

She could see the blinding light of the high beams and heard the roar of an engine.

Rey pushed herself up. “What – what’s happening?”

“Rey?” Finn shouted as Poe nearly upended the car as he swerved along the mountain road. Behind them, the high beams followed.

“This fucker’s been on my ass,” Poe shouted, not bothering to look at her. “Tried to drive me off the fucking road!”

 “Rey!” Jess cried, hugging Rey to her. “Oh God, I thought we’d lost you, you were passed out when we found you, and so _cold-_ “

“I-I’m fine,” Rey said. The truth of her encounter was on the tip of her tongue, but something told her it would be best to keep it to herself. One look at Poe’s frazzled expression told her that her friends couldn’t hear it right now, either. Someone – _or something,_ a voice in her head reminded her – was pursuing them.

Rey chanced a glance back, squinting against the high beams. She couldn’t make out a driver. The car looked like a black pickup truck, and it was moving _fast,_ occasionally swerving from side to side.

“Think he’s drunk,” Rey said, shutting her eyes against a pounding headache. “It looks like how fucktards drive when their drunk.”

“ _FUCK!”_ Poe screamed, slamming on the breaks. Before them the road was out, blocked by massive boulders that had fallen in a landslide. If they crashed into one of them…

Poe swerved, slammed the breaks. Rey felt her heart in her throat. She couldn’t look in front of her so she looked behind at the truck, and –

It was gone.

And Rey _swore_ she saw a pair of yellow eyes stare at her from the dark road.

The car skidded to a stop, jolting them all.

There was a heavy pause, and then – out of sheer _relief –_ Rey found herself laughing. It was the sort of uncontrollable laughter born of desperation, of the brink of insanity, of cheating death and the devil in the same day.

Poe was cackling along with her – it seemed that the gravity of the situation had gotten to him, too. Jess and Finn joined in, until the four of them were howling like lunatics at the absurdity of it all.

“We were going to a hospital,” Finn said, the first to find words. “We thought you fell and hit your head. Y’know – a concussion. And then -”

“And then that _fucker_ started chasing us down the road,” Poe spat. “Missed the exit, and almost died.”

“ _Twice,”_ Jess said. She squeezed Rey’s hand. “Are you okay? We really were worried…”

Rey’s head _did_ hurt; in fact, her whole body ached. “I have a headache,” Rey answered honestly. “And my back and knees. But that’s probably from running – I don’t think I twisted an ankle or anything.”

“Still,” Finn said, “We should get you to a hospital anyway, just to be sure. You don’t fuck around with head injuries. Jess, make sure she stays awake on the ride, okay?”

Rey nodded, and Jess squeezed her hand in affirmation. She doubted she needed medical attention – she didn’t think doctors could cure an encounter with the Devil- but the normalcy of a _hospital_ was something she so, so desperately wished to return to.

“Yeah,” she said. Finn pulled out his phone GPS and navigated them back onto the main roads. She bit her lip and pulled her hoodie sleeves down over her hands. The past few hours scarcely felt as if they were real – she’d raced the Devil and _won,_ for chrissake – how the hell was she supposed to process that?

There was one thing he’d said that kept coming back to her: _You claim to be one of them._ Why would she claim to be human? She was born human, she’d die human – there wasn’t another option. A human being. _Homo sapiens._ That’s what she _was._

…wasn’t she?


	2. Hunter's Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this was overwhelmingly positive - thank you all, it really made my week :) This is going to be fun to write with Halloween coming up right around the corner :D 
> 
> To answer a few questions: "Satan" means "The Adversary." It's more of a title than anything.

The Adversary’s interest wasn’t ordinarily piqued, but these circumstances were far from ordinary. The girl wasn’t human – of that, he was certain. She might not notice the change when her pulse quickened and her heart pounded like a drum, but he could smell on her the sharp tang of something older than the human race. Whatever it was – whatever _she_ was – must’ve been old, and powerful, to best him.

And then the phantom truck…

It had been a long while since something like _that_ had appeared – most of the cults from the past three decades, the ones that used tactics like that to keep outsiders away, had disbanded after the spirits they’d made pacts with had lost interest.  He had a feeling whose work it was, but he couldn’t be certain. It could’ve been residual angry energy, leftover from a poltergeist – not an intentional attack. But still…

He pushed it to the back burner. It didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was the girl – and what manner of creature she was.

It was a rare thing indeed when anyone bested him in a challenge. He was a powerhouse of raw energy, the one who kept a third of the cogs of the universe turning. Death, Destiny, and the Devil.

The last time a mortal had defeated him had been in a stupid music contest, several decades back. He’d lost his favorite golden fiddle – and he was still bitter about it. But that was _rigged,_ the kid had _distracted him,_ he’d gone too rough and the stupid bow had _broken._

It was a stupid challenge, anyway. But that had been music – this was a race, on his own turf, one he’d _never_ lost before – to a human or otherwise.

And she – Rey – was most _definitely_ otherwise.

So Kylo Ren, The Adversary, Successor to the Morning Star, followed her.

* * *

When Rey returned to her apartment, the first thing she did was shower.

She was cold, her clothes were covered in dirt, and there were bits of twigs and dead leaves in her hair. Her legs ached, and the hot water was a blessing.

The doctor at the ER gave her the all-clear; she wasn’t concussed, her blood pressure was normal despite the scare (of _course_ it was – one of Rey’s points of pride was her impeccable resting heart rate-) and her pupils dilated normally. The spontaneous fainting incident _was_ concerning, the doctor had said, but she _had_ been exerting herself, - had she eaten properly?- so he took blood to run tests. The hospital discharged her, and would call her with the results.

And now she was showering, as if she could wash the past several hours off of her.

Even here, in the privacy of her own shower – with her friends in the apartment not twenty feet away – she couldn’t relax. Every time she blinked she could see afterimages of his glowing yellow eyes, the shit-eating grin, the way the shadows morphed and roiled around him. If she really concentrated, she could hear his voice – _a year and a day –_ as clearly as if he were standing behind her.

She didn’t stay in the shower very long.

She emerged in a wave of steam, hair damp and donning an overlong t-shirt and baggy sweat pants. Finn was half-asleep on her couch, next to Poe. The minute Rey sat down, Jess was passing a mug of warm tea into her hands.

“Thanks,” Rey said, wrapping her hands around the hot ceramic, relishing in a sensation that _wasn’t_ related to her run-in with _him._

Jess smiled and sat down next to her, sipping on her own mug of tea. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad we survived that – whatever it was, with the truck,” Rey said. Focusing on an almost fatal car accident was easier than focusing on her race; she sort of felt bad, for dragging her friends back to it, but she couldn’t help it. “Seriously, Poe. You should take up stunt-driving.”

Poe gave a tired smirk, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back. “I’m not getting my MS in mechanical engineering to _become a stunt driver.”_

Rey gave a small chuckle at that. The four of them sat around with the TV on as background noise; eventually Finn fell asleep and Jess went to her room. Rey was equally terrified and exhausted, and did her best to hide it.

But Poe was looking at her with those eyes, those sort of eyes that could see into the core of your being.

“Rey,” he said, softly, putting the television on mute. “What _really_ happened?”

Rey froze, blood running cold. She masked her panic by sipping the last of her now-lukewarm tea. “What do you mean?”

“Back at the graveyard, behind the church. You…saw something, didn’t you?” His tone was gentle, his eyes unfathomably kind. Rey loved Poe, he was one of her best friends, but…

When she opened her mouth to tell him, the words died in her throat. There was something transgressive, perverse, _wrong_ , about telling Poe what had happened. Rey wasn’t sure why – there had been no swearing to secrecy; in fact, there was the _expectation_ that Rey might run into something not-entirely-human. Poe had been _there,_ had driven her to a hospital, had kept his head on straight enough to avoid a horrific car accident.

So why couldn’t she tell him?

Rey swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I…I don’t know.” She looked at the mug she still held tightly in her hands. “I-one second I was conscious, the next I wasn’t. I got spooked. I…” she trailed off. She didn’t like lying to Poe. It left a bad taste in her mouth. But what was she supposed to do?

He was looking at her with those eyes, those _damned soul-searing eyes,_ and said, “Okay.” Rey knew he suspected something, knew he didn’t believe her, but his easy acceptance of her answer made something warm bloom in her chest. It was a welcome feeling after the night she’d had.

“Thank you,” she said, and she knew that Poe, with his soul-searching eyes and kind manner, understood.

They left Finn to sleep on the couch that night. Poe went to his room, and Rey went to hers. Finn lived in an apartment on the other side of campus with his roommate Storm, but there was rarely a week where he didn’t crash on her couch at least once.

The minute Rey was alone, all warmth disappeared, replaced with a white-cold sense of dread. She steeled herself against it- she’d faced worse, she’d _survived_ worse. She’d get a good night’s sleep and deal with all supernatural shit in the morning.

But still…

She slept with the lights on that night.

* * *

Three days later and Rey was certain that she was going crazy.

Part of her refused to believe that she had raced the Devil – _and won._ Part of her wanted to write it up to an elaborate hallucination, but something primal inside of her, something that still quivered in fear, knew that she had brushed elbows with Satan. The Devil.

She didn’t want to think about it, so she didn’t think about it. But – and she wasn’t sure if it was some weird Freudian subconscious work on her mind, or actual coincidences, or something much more sinister, but _she couldn’t stop being reminded of it._

The days following the incident in the graveyard left her reeling with questions, in awe that the old Appalachian myths had been _true,_ and rabbit-scared that she’d awakened a beast that she should’ve let sleep. _Things_ were happening, weird thing, unexplainable things, and she had no doubt her race with Satan was to blame. Jess and Finn were easy enough to keep unconcerned, but Poe…

Poe was too damn perceptive for his – or her – own good.

Rey had promised herself that she wouldn’t let Satan intimidate her, but she could feel her resolve slipping. And Poe could see it, too. The things that kept happening – weird shit, freaky shit – was beginning to pile up.

(Like the time she and Poe were running through the old park trails, and she _swore_ she saw a woman in bloody clothes washing something in the creek, so vivid and so real that she _screamed,_ and Poe was left confused and worried…)

(Like the time in the coffee shop when she dropped her steaming-hot cup because she saw the barista’s eyes flash yellow, but realized it was only a trick of the light…)

(Like the time she shut her eyes and she _swore_ she could feel his breath on her neck…)

All throughout those next three days, as the cold winds ushered November in, she couldn’t relax.

And on the fourth day, it all came to a head.

* * *

Three days later, and he was growing  _bored._

Her life was so _inane,_ just like every other human on the damned planet: wake up, eat, do stupid mortal shit, sleep, repeat. From the outside, she was just like every other human – dreadfully droll, utterly uninteresting, marvelously mundane. She showed no interest in summoning him, in getting her favor.

Every single human – _every single one_ – had decided what they wanted within an _hour_ of being granted a favor from him. The wiser ones had decided to take their time, to contemplate, but even _they_ didn’t last very long. Her resolve was of biblical proportions – the last one to resist such temptation had been the Anointed One, and even then, _that_ hadn’t ended well.

 _But,_ he mused, _there is something to be learned from the Morning Star._

If she would not come to him, he would simply have to go to her.

On the fourth day, he glamoured himself and followed her into a coffee shop. All but the most perceptive of humans would see him as a tall man with black hair; _she_ would see straight through his- or any- glamour. The Mark of Cain she bore would make sure of that.

Rey was in a coffee shop when it happened. He walked in and ordered an Americano and waited. When the barista called her order, she spotted him and almost immediately dropped her cup, spilling hot coffee all over herself. She cursed a blue streak. He could smell it again, the not-human something that reared its head when her instincts threatened to override her common sense.

He grinned at her. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue.”

“Not a cat,” she muttered, frowning. She glanced around her, to make sure nobody would hear her words when she whispered, “I didn’t summon you.”

He snorted. “As if I would allow anybody to overhear our conversation.”

That didn’t seem to put her at ease. “I _didn’t summon you.”_ And she repeated it with much more vigor, grit through her teeth, face contorted into a snarl.

Oh, she had _much_ more spirit than a human ever would, much more iron and fire within her.

He couldn’t help but grin as he responded – he had a feeling it would get under her skin. “I grew tired of waiting.”

Her eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared. And he, Kylo Ren, the Adversary, was proven right. “You gave me a _year!”_

He shrugged and she, as if scared by her own outburst, gave quick nervous glances around her – but nobody had heard. Kylo had rendered them entirely invisible to the rest of the world.

“Surely there must be _something_ you want,” he said. When she didn’t answer, he rubbed his temples and gave an exasperated sigh. “You know I can give you anything you want.”

To prove his point, her spilt coffee went back into the Styrofoam cup, the lid was placed back on and it was safely back into her hand.

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not drinking that. The coffee was on the _floor._ ”

He bared his teeth. “That’s not the _point._ ”

She glared up at him. “Why are you following me? Why are you _bothering_ me? What do you _want?_ Can’t you just – leave me alone?” There was a pitiful tone to her voice, something that suggested that really, all she wanted _was_ to be left alone.

A sadistic part of him – the part of him that made him who he was, that is to say, Satan – relished the thought.

“I don’t like being indebted to anyone,” he growled. “Much less a slip of a girl who doesn’t even know _what she is._ ”

Something inside of her seemed to snap. She chucked the coffee cup at him, spilling it down his front. The heat of it stung his bare skin, but he ignored it. Her anger was rolling off her in waves, tasting of iron and cinnamon and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, something intoxicating, something that was most _definitely_ not-human.

“Maybe,” she snarled, “If I knew who my _parents_ were, then I’d know _what I am._ I’m _sorry_ I have the _audacity_ to be an _orphan,_ but you know what, you stupid fuck? Your obsession with _what I am_ isn’t _my problem.”_

Oh.

_Oh-ho._

Seconds after the words were out of her mouth, she seemed to realize that she’d made a grave mistake. Maybe it was because he loomed in front of her, maybe it was the swirling of his marks or the way his eyes flashed – either way, she looked petrified.

Her fear smelled like peppermint.

He leaned forward; she leaned back. He grinned in her face, inches before her. “Well then,” he said. “Why don’t you find out? You have a way now, you know.”

And with that – planting the seed of destruction in her mind, lingering just long enough to see the confusion, the fear, the sheer _hatred_ for him appear on her face – he disappeared.

He’d hear from her again.

For all something other that Rey was – and he was certain she was something _other-_ she was mortal enough that he was certain of that.

* * *

 

 

Some of you asked what this playlist entails; you can find a link to the songs [here](http://littlemanicmonday.tumblr.com/post/150522518773/playlist-for-faustus-because-a-few-of-you-had).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obvious shoutout to The Devil Went Down to Georgia is obvious. 
> 
> The "Morning Star" is a reference to the original Satan, Lucifer, as in Paradise Lost. 
> 
> If things are confusing right now, I promise, they'll be cleared up in the next chapter.


	3. The Seamstress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finally cracks and summons Satan to find her parents. Satan isn't gifted with the Sight, so he brings her to someone who can help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah guys, thank you so much for your kind words :D I'm glad you're enjoying this, I'm having so much fun writing it - it's really getting me into the Halloween spirit! (Also shoutout to those of you who caught onto some references here and there!)
> 
> That being said, this chapter gets a little...dark. Nothing too bad, just images of violence and a bit of gore. Nothing worse than a Silent Hill movie - actually, not even as bad as a Silent Hill movie. Just a forewarning here though! (This IS a fic about Satan, after all...)
> 
> Enjoy!

She hated that his words got to her.

_Hated it._

She shouldn’t have slipped, shouldn’t have shown him the perfect way to get to her, shouldn’t have opened her mouth. She should’ve bolted the second she saw him – she’d outrun him once, she could outrun him again.

But her parents…

He’d wormed his way under skin and had lodged the thought right into her head. She lived with her grandfather – and she loved him, dearly – but even _he_ became very taciturn whenever her parents were mentioned.

For the first time, answers were available to her.

Even before she’d made her decision, some part of her knew that she’d take the bait.

Over the next two weeks, Rey prepared herself. She upped her running routine. She snapped a picture of her birth certificate. She resolutely ignored any glimpses she caught out of the corner of her eye, paid no heed to the things that went bump in the night.

She still slept with a light on.

Ever since Satan had stumbled into her life, a hole had been ripped in the fabric of reality and strange _things_ came crawling out – things Rey did her best to ignore. Shadows that took on a life of their own in her chemistry lecture. Flashes of yellow eyes in otherwise mundane people. Voices that whispered to her on her run, bit at her heels, urged her to go _faster, faster, faster,_ until she was running at a break-neck pace only to escape them -

Sleep offered no reprieve.

In her dreams he was there, yellow eyes and swirling tattoos, teeth pointed _just_ too much to be human. There were other things, too, horrible things: a limbless man with no eyelids or tongue slithering on the ground, a collar around his neck binding him to a faceless woman, a human face made entirely of flies, a creature with only a gaping mouth and razor-sharp teeth chasing after her…

It was the nightmares that tipped the scales, and made her seek him out. People could see it, the difference in her – the dark circles under her eyes, the sallow look to her face, the way she jumped at the slightest of sounds…

She couldn’t take it any longer.

* * *

 

Rey set out for the nearest crossroads just after midnight. She figured a regular intersection would do, but she’d prefer to be secluded – so she went to the nearest park, slipped past the gate that read “PARK CLOSES AT SUNDOWN” and found her favorite running trail. It was eerie, walking through the park this late at night, but it was also the first time in two weeks that Rey felt at ease. She walked along the trail as it disappeared into the trees, kicking up dead leaves in her wake. In the distance, an owl hooted, and Rey was almost positive she saw the silhouette of a deer. The sheer simplicity of it all was a relief.

Rey stood in the middle as the road split in several directions. Her heart pounded in her chest as she steeled herself. She pulled her hoodie sleeves over her hands, crossed her arms, and let out a shaky breath.

“Well?” she called out into the darkness. “I’m waiting.”  

Several seconds passed in silence. Just as Rey thought she’d somehow got the location wrong, the wind picked up, whipping the leaves into a frenzy. The scenery of the park seemed to melt away even as the wind was blowing, and Rey stood stock still, frozen on the spot.

He appeared in a whirl of black mist, looming tall and wide. Even in the meager light, Rey could see the black tattoos that decorated his bare chest; his yellow eyes glinted in the half-light, and the twin horns that rose atop his head added a sort of feral elegance to his face. His gaze locked on hers, and Rey felt her blood run cold.

His lips quirked up into a shit-eating-grin. “So,” he said, “You’ve decided what you want?”

Rey took a steadying breath. She would _not_ show weakness, not again, not to him. “Things have been happening. _Weird_ things.” _Scary things,_ she wanted to say, but wouldn’t. She kept her eyes cold, her tone accusatory, giving him no room to budge.

Rey felt herself squirm under the weight of his gaze. “You’ve brushed with Otherside and have lived to tell the tale. _Things_ are bound to notice you. Now – if you’re here to pester me about archaic knowledge, I have –“

 Rey burned with a thousand questions, but she cut him off, not wanting to spend a second longer with him than necessary. “I want you to show me my parents.”

There was a pregnant pause. “It always goes back to lineage,” he said, almost to himself. Then: “Are you sure that’s what you want? Just me to _show_ you?”

The implication of his words wasn’t lost on Rey. She immediately backtracked. “No! No. I mean – show me where they are. Give me information about them. Enough that I can – visit or contact, or find them. No fucking tricks.”

His grin made her heart stop. “Then let’s go.”

Rey took a step back, knowing she’d just lost control of the situation. “Go? Go where?”

He chuckled. “I am not gifted in the ways of the Sight. I will take you to someone who can.”

Rey hesitated. She’d been prepared to talk to him, but to go somewhere with him? To find someone else? To officially cross the threshold from what she knew into the completely unknown? That was...

Her eyes flickered back to him. Nothing about him was trustworthy – he was the literal _Devil._ He was just as likely to drag her to hell as he was to show Rey her parents.

“And nothing bad will happen to me? I’ll be safe?”

He rolled his eyes. _“Yes,_ you’ll be safe. Now can we leave? We don’t have all day.”

Rey arched an eyebrow. “You’re Satan. Don’t you have all eternity?”

He chuckled. “Oh, _I_ do,” he said. He offered his hand to her. “But _you_ don’t.”

Rey stared at his hand. It was utterly normal, save for the black fingernails. But even then, Rey could pretend that it belonged to one of the Goth kids on campus.

 _Well,_ she figured. _It’s not or never. Time to see who your parents are._

She let out a breath and took his hand, and they were swept into darkness. Shadows whipped around her face, and she felt like she was falling –

-They landed in a meadow. Everything about it reminded her of a Monet painting, from the wildflowers at her feet to the clouds in the sky. The sun was setting a resplendent shade of red. The scent of the wildflowers wafted up and around her, cocooned her in a relaxing aroma and for a split second Rey was so at east that she forgot she was standing next to Satan.

“Where _are_ we?” Rey asked, voice hushed. This was a sacred place, something that required reverence. It was like stepping into an empty church, the sort of awed quiet that overtook her.

“The House at the End of the World,” Satan told her. He gestured to a cottage some fifty feet away. “Now come on. Maz is waiting.”

“Maz?” Rey asked, trotting to keep up with his long strides. Satan was tall – taller than most men Rey knew. She was tall for a girl, and wasn’t used to craning her neck up to look at him.  

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, annoyance radiating off him. “The Seamstress. She’ll be able to see into your lifeline – lineage is her specialty.”

Rey bit her lip and followed him. It was hard to be anxious here, but she managed. At the cottage, Satan lifted his hand to knock on the door, but it swung open in front of him, revealing a small orange-brown creature.

“Kylo Ren!” the creature’s voice was clear and feminine. She wore odd goggles, a vest, and loose cotton pants. She grinned up at Satan – Kylo Ren? – and then her eyes fell on Rey.

“So you brought a guest!” she said, almost in surprise. Satan’s mouth twitched. “Hard to get the drop on you, Maz.”

Maz gave a definitive nod. “Come in, come in.” After Satan passed her threshold, Maz took Rey’s forearm in a surprisingly strong grip. Startled, Rey gasped, looking down –

-and found herself caught in the most mesmerizing pair of eyes she’d ever seen. Rey couldn’t tell if they were green or blue or hazel, but she found herself entranced, lost, completely and utterly a servant to this creature’s whim…

And suddenly, Rey was freed, jolted back into her own autonomy like a ragdoll. Maz replaced her goggled and peered up at Rey.

“Kenobi,” she murmured, almost to herself. Rey blanched – so Maz had figured out her surname – but was scarcely given the time to respond before she was being ushered into the cottage.

It was homey, earthy; potted herbs dominated almost every surface; they grew out of clay pots, ceramic mugs, even an old boot. Kylo - Satan? -had called her a seamstress, but there was no sign of needles and thread in sight. Maz led them through an old oak door that was carved with intricate knotwork. Satan-Kylo Ren?- had to duck his head to get through.

As Rey entered that room, she gasped.

An old round wooden table was in the center of the room, and the walls were covered with dozens –no, hundreds – of mirrors.

Rey had only seen one variety of mirror in her life, and frankly, it had never occurred to her that other types of mirrors could exist. But the evidence stood before her – there were blue ones and black ones, one made from obsidian, another from diamond. They were mounted on the walls, some hanging freely from the ceiling, one suspended in midair right above the table.

“Impressive, is it not?” she asked, bustling around them. Somehow Maz had acquired a kettle without Rey noticing, and she was pouring hot water into three mugs. Rey wondered if she would read tea leaves, if that’s how Maz would find her lineage.

“Sit, sit,” she said. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Rey frowned, wondering what she meant by “work” but took a seat anyway. Satan sat next to her, the table and chairs just too small for him. Maz also took her seat, picking up her tea and taking a sip.

“So!” she said, putting her mug down and spreading her hands on the table. “What manner of visit is this? Are you here to ask about your successor?”

Satan waved the question off. “I know he’s in the Horsemen’s realm. We’ll identify him later, Maz. I’m here to…” and did he sound embarrassed? “…repay a runner’s debt.”

Maz looked from Satan to Rey and back again, then broke out into rancorous laughter. It rang clear as bells throughout the room, and Rey was convinced the mirrors sang with it.

“Oh, _this one_ I like! A slip of a girl, defeating Kylo Ren at his own game! Tell me your given name, girl.”

Rey swallowed. “I-I’m Rey.”

“Are you,” she said, and Rey wasn’t sure if it was a question. She sipped her tea demurely and waited – she was more than out of her league, and she had a feeling that no amount of running could get her away from Maz. This creature might be friendly, but there was a razor-sharp power hiding just underneath the nice veneer. “Guard your name carefully, girl.”

Rey blinked. Maz’s gaze didn’t waver. A pregnant pause hung heavy in the room.

“ _Rey,”_ Satan said, and the contempt with which he said her name wasn’t lost on her, “Would like to know who her parents are. I believe her specific terms were, ‘enough information that she can contact or find them. No fucking tricks.’”

Rey went red. Maz laughed again. “Smart girl.” She winked at Rey. To Satan, she said, “Don’t act so sour. _You’re_ the one who lost.”

Satan fumed. Out of her league as she was – and Rey was truly out of her league - she felt a sense of righteousness bloom in her chest.

“How are you going to do it?” Rey found herself asking. “Are you – are you going to read the tea leaves?”

Next to her, Satan snorted in amusement. Rey ignored him, even as her face heated up at her own foolishness.

Maz shook her head. “No, child. The tea is for hospitality. The mirrors will show us what we need to know.”

“Oh,” Rey said, glancing behind her. A great black mirror dominated that wall, looming intense and ominous. _Bad vibes,_ Rey thought to herself. _Bad, bad vibes._

Maz followed her gaz. “Not that mirror, child.”

Rey relaxed, if only a bit.

Maz stood and padded over to a different mirror, one that was a clear, light blue. It was about two feet tall and a foot and a half wide; Rey saw her reflection in it. Satan was still seated at the table. Oddly enough, reflections that should’ve appeared from the other mirrors in the room were absent. Next to her, Maz smiled.

“Rey Kenobi,” she said, “Let’s find your parents.” She tapped her finger to the surface of the mirror, and it rippled like a puddle of water.

“We need to see into your past,” Maz said. She pressed her hand to the mirror and the insides shifted, forming into shapes and colors. Rey could make out her grandfather’s house – she knew this memory. It was one of her firsts. When she was left there, with a strange blue-eyed old man they told her was her grandfather.  

She shut her eyes against it.

“Look,” Satan scolded. Rey jumped, finding that he was looming right behind her. “Do not blink. You wanted to see who your parents were, _this is how.”_

Rey swallowed and forced herself to look.

Maz took Rey’s hand in hers and guided it to the surface of the mirror. “Here,” she said, and pressed Rey’s hand to it.

Rey screamed.

It burned, it _burned,_ worse than the time she’d touched a hot burned, worse than the time hot grease spat onto her face, and oh, the _things she saw –_

They were coming out of the mirror, crawling and slithering, the things from her dreams. A severed pig’s head on a human’s body, bound in chains and slithering out of the mirror and onto the floor –

-she was standing in the middle of a battlefield, the smell of rotten, bloody flesh overtaking her. Crows flew all around her, swarming her vision, but at least the crows weren’t flies-

-half-human _things_ lumbered after her, covered in bandages and weeping wounds, with no faces, just cavernous mouths and hungry hearts –

 _“NO!”_ Rey screamed, and lurched back. She didn’t know where she was, couldn’t tell what was happening, she just felt herself being _pushed-_

Rey acted on instinct. She brought up a fist…

…and smashed the mirror.

* * *

 

FANART

[Lilithsaur](http://lilithsaur.tumblr.com/) on tumblr did an amazing Satan!Kylo piece, check it out [here](http://lilithsaur.tumblr.com/image/150566672238). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts! Ways it could improve, things you'd like to see, questions, comments, concerns...? I'm excited for this one, but I'm also a little nervous, so I'd like to hear what you think :) 
> 
> Happy Saturday!


	4. The Profane and the Divine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah thank you all for your lovely comments :D they really urged me to write more, I'm so glad you're enjoying this as much as I am!
> 
> Some of you have questions - they'll be answered within the story. I don't want to spoil anything! But if you're wondering "Why does x do y" when it seems sort of over-the-top, silly, or just weird? The answer is "stupid primordial laws that bind these ancient creatures."

The girl smashed the mirror.

_She smashed the mirror._

Kylo Ren wasn’t privy to what visions were overtaking the girl – that was for her eyes and hers alone –she’d clearly been in a state, but to _break out of the visions and_ _smash the mirror…_

The room around him began shaking, the mirrors thrumming with a wicked energy. Blue magic crackled through the air like lightning, the air itself weaponized.

The girl stumbled back, hand blood and face ashen.

Maz was positively _furious._ Her spectacles came off and the very fabric of the world began to shift.

 _“Rey Kenobi,”_ she hissed, the voices of a thousand dead gods speaking through her, _“you have made a grave mistake.”_ Maz reached out to grab her, but Rey jumped away, knocking over a chair in the process. Kylo had only ever seen Maz half this angry, and it had only been once, very, very long ago.

The shards or broken glass whipped into a frenzy, one cutting Rey’s face. She stumbled backward and-gods be damned – _stumbled into another mirror_.  Whatever had been behind it came surging forward, a mass of serpent-like half-creatures with orange eyes and gaping maws. One snapped at Rey’s foot and she kicked it down. Maz was speaking in tongues, and Kylo _recognized_ that summons, he –

He needed to get out of here. But he was bound – Rey had wanted to see her parents, that had been the favor he’d granted her, but he was bound by those _stupid primordial laws_ to honor her request.

 _Well,_ he thought, _time to get a new request._

He scooped Rey into his arms and lept upon the wooden table. “You,” he grit, “Had better use your favor to _get us out of here,_ and _now._ ”

“What’s happening –“

“No questions! We have to leave!” He felt himself grow more and more impatient. Had he foreseen this going this badly, he’d have never brought her to the Seamstress.

“Fine! I want you to get us out of here, _alive –“_

That was all he needed.

Kylo grabbed her by the bicep, hugged her to his chest, and whisked them away just as Mephistopheles was appearing.

* * *

Rey’s heart was in her throat and her hands were shaking. It was all she could do to not sob-  from overwhelming or relief, she wasn’t sure. She was dimly aware of a pain in her arm – probably from where the glass had pierced her – but that was secondary to the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Kylo rounded on her. _“Stupid girl!”_

Rey took his anger and threw it back to him. “ _What the fuck just happened_!”

“You made me an enemy of the most powerful being in this life and the next!” He was pacing, running his hands through his hair. Rey watched him the way a rabbit watches a snake, not sure if she should stay absolutely still or bolt on the spot. She’d outran him once – she could do it again.

“You cost me an apprentice,” he went on. Rey grit her teeth and ignored him. Nausea overtook her and black spots clouded her vision- Christ, she should be _recovering_ now, not getting _worse._

She crouched down, clutching her stomach and breaking out into a sweat.

Something was wrong.

Something was really, really wrong.

“What’s happening?” Rey moaned, shutting her eyes against the headache.

“You are infected with the poison of the mirror,” Kylo Ren said, tone flat. “It’ll only get worse from here. I’ll be surprised if you survive through the day.”

“I asked you to get us out of there _alive!”_

“And I did,” he said dryly. “You’re out of there, and alive. Not for much longer, I wager.”

Rey couldn’t tell if it was fury or nausea rising in her gut. “Stupid fucking _demon._ ”

“Watch it, girl,” he growled. “I’m your only chance at surviving this. If you’re willing to bargain.” There was a wicked tone to his voice, something that made Rey’s heart drop.  

“What choice do I have?” Rey could scarcely stand through the burning pain. She would die here. _She was going to die here._

“There is always a choice,” he muttered, but it was so faint that Rey might’ve imagined it.

“What do you want?” Rey said. Oh god, she’d do _anything_ to make the burning in her stomach stop. She looked up at him. The smile on his face was cruel.

“I’ve yet to decide. There’s only so much one mortal can offer me, after all.”

Rey swallowed, grasping at straws. “You said I wasn’t mortal. You’re _convinced_.” She felt weak, pathetic, but what choice did she have?

“Very well.” He reached forward and touched two fingers to the cut on her cheek. It _burned,_ it burned like ice, like metal, like a white-hot fit of rage, and Rey thought she would burst –

But then it subsided; the pain, the nausea, the headache, all were gone. She was still panicky, still felt _bad,_ but her body wasn’t giving out on her.

She survived. _She survived._

Her mind swam with questions – firstly, what the fuck, and secondly, what the fuck – but when she opened her mouth, Kylo held up a hand.

“Two questions, little bird.”

Rey let out a shaky breath and straightened. “Isn’t is supposed to be three?”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “Do you want that to be your first?”

 _So the devil’s got a sense of humor. Wonderful._ “Why did she get mad that I smashed the mirror? I – I did it to make it _stop,_ I didn’t know that it would anger her…”

“Those mirrors are what keeps the facets of reality intact. They’re supposed to be untouchable. And you smashed _two._ You disturbed the Seamstress’s realm, and – quite frankly – have unleashed things that were supposed to be hidden.”

Rey swallowed. None of that boded well.

“Will those things keep following me?”

His chuckled sounded like a funeral knell. “Oh, little bird,” he said, and if it weren’t for that damned smirk, Rey could’ve believed that he was genuinely sorry, “You don’t know that half of it.”

* * *

Disoriented was a mild way of putting it.

Rey couldn’t be sure what day it was as she exited the forest. It was still in the predawn hours where the world was at its quietest – the nocturnal creatures were falling asleep but nobody else was awake yet. Everything on her campus was surreal and eerie. Rey wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her of not, but she _swore_ she saw the shadows moving.

Tired as she was, sore as she was, she managed to job back to her apartment.

She greeted the front desk with a small grimace and didn’t bother with the elevator – being trapped and still with those _things_ on the edge of her vision didn’t seem like a great idea. She took the stairs two at a time, unlocked her door with shaky hands, and slammed it behind her once she was safe inside.

She made a beeline for the shower, shucking off her now-damp (and as far as Rey was concerned, contaminated) clothes and relishing the hot water on her skin.

When she stepped out, hair damp and wearing nothing but a towel – a worried-looking Jessika was there to greet her.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?”

The corner of Rey’s mouth twitched. Jess didn’t know the half of it. “I –“

“It’s been _two days_ and nobody’s seen hide or hair of you! And you come in at five _AM!_ ”

Rey’s eyes widened. Two days. _Two days._ How the _hell_ had she spent _two days –_

She shoved her worry aside. She needed an alibi, and fast. “I got news that my grandfather was in the hospital. He’d had a stroke. I – I wanted to make sure he was okay, and I didn’t tell anyone because – well, you know, no reason in worrying if he’s okay, and if he wasn’t I’d want some time to process it before…” Rey made a vague gesture. “You know.”

Jess’ expression softened, but her eyes still held traces of suspicion. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. Next time, can you at least tell us that you’re going home? We were all super worried. You _never_ miss class, and Poe didn’t see you in lab on Friday…”

Rey did her best to look apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I was so stressed, it didn’t even occur to me…” she trailed off. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jess said.

Rey sighed. “Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of days – sorry if I woke you, hospitals are so gross and I wanted to shower.”

“You came right from the hospital?”

 _Shit._ Her story was _full_ of holes. “I was there around the clock. I helped my grandpa get settled in before coming back. I’m sorry for just disappearing – it’s been a rough few days.”

“Yeah,” Jess said. She yawned. “You should probably get some rest – I’d text Finn and Poe that you’re alive, though.” Jess’ last words were tossed over her shoulder as she walked away and shut her bedroom door behind her.

Rey felt a pang of guilt that was soon followed by a rush of anger. She wasn’t even sure who she should be angry at – her friends, for making her take that stupid dare, herself, for _letting_ her friends make her take that stupid dare, or _Satan,_ the stupid fuck who made the dare _that much worse._

Rey tugged on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and flopped onto her bed. She sent a quick text to Finn and Poe – _Sorry for disappearing, grandpa had a stroke –_ and did her best to try and fall asleep.

In her dreams, orange eyes watched her from behind cracked mirrors.

* * *

It was Poe who cornered her first.

It was noon on Sunday, less than eight hours since she’d gotten back. It had been a glorious forty-five minutes where Rey wasn’t seeing any hellish creature out of the corner of her eye (or worse, right in front of her.) She was in line at the coffee shop when Poe appeared at her side, making her jump.

“Hey,” he said, completely unfazed. “Gotta minute?”

There was an edge in his voice that Rey didn’t dare say no to. “Just let me grab my coffee first,” she said. “What’s up?”

He clasped his hands behind his back. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough weekend so far.”

“Well, yeah, I mean –“ Rey was saved from having to respond in full by the barista calling out her name. She went to get it, and as she walked back to Poe he was already guiding them to a table. Rey sat, steeling herself for the reaming of a lifetime.

Poe leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands folded in front of his chin. “What’s going on, Rey.”

“I’m sorry for disappearing – my grandpa stroked out. I was so stressed, I –“

“Cut the crap, Rey.”

Rey was torn between guilt and annoyance. Poe continued, “You’ve been acting off for two weeks. You _disappeared_ on us. You look like you haven’t slept in a month. You ditched lab. What the hell, Rey? We’re worried. Really, really worried.”

Rey opened her mouth to reply, but Poe leaned in, his voice quiet. “And before you decide to bullshit me again, know that I can see the Mark.”

She frowned. “Mark? What…”

Poe tapped his temple. “The Mark of Cain. I can _see it,_ Rey. You can lie to Jess and Finn, but not me. I can _see._ Something happened at the graveyard, and you’re not telling us.”

Rey stared at him, wide-eyed. “I didn’t see any Mark, Poe. Of Cain or otherwise.” The only reason she even had a vague idea of what Poe was talking about was because her grandfather was Anglican, and had brought her to church services with him when she was little. She had no idea what the “Mark of Cain” was, but she remembered Cain from the bible – the guy who’d murdered his brother.

Poe sat back. “You’re not denying it.”

Rey paused, then shook her head. There was no use lying to him. Poe could smell bullshit a mile away, and at this point it was nice to have someone – anyone- to talk to. “You’re not wrong. Something…did happen. At the graveyard. I went out the other day to put an end to it. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” Rey took a breath. “What do you mean by Mark of Cain?”

“You have it. It’s a divine Mark. It means you’ve crossed from the profane into the sacred. And I don’t mean in a holy way just in a…not-human sort of way.”

Rey grimaced. “Is that…not good? And _how_ can you see it? I can’t even see it!” Her mind was swirling with questions – even _more_ questions – and really, why did this have to be her life?

Poe stood. “I think we should go somewhere more private to talk. Don’t you?”

* * *

They were in Poe’s apartment. Rey sat on the loveseat, Poe on his couch. She gaped at him, lukewarm cup of coffee forgotten, after he’d finished telling her what he knew. He’d known from the moment she’d started running – the Mark had appeared on her, and he’d been the only one to see it.

“So you’re telling me that you have the Sight?”

“Yes.”

“That you inherited from your grandmother.”

“Yes.”

“And all of this hokey shit is…it’s _real?_ ”

Poe grimaced at that. “Maybe not ‘all.’ The boogeyman doesn’t exist. But…yeah. It’s real.”

“And that this Mark I have means that the literal Devil isn’t finished with me.”

“Well, it makes sense, you _did_ bargain with him for your life…”

“And these – these _things_ that are following me around?”

Poe sighed. “I’m sure you attract more than I do.  Things like the Sight – or dealing with the Devil- mark you has having had dealings outside of the profane. You have to pretend they’re not there. Once you notice them, they start to notice _you._ And you’re going to be more of a target than I ever would.”

Rey groaned and tried to ignore the growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. “I am _so_ screwed.”

“Maybe,” Poe said. “But maybe not.”

* * *

They spent most of the car ride in silence.

Rey looked at Poe from the passenger seat, really studying his face. He seemed so – so calm, and together. Well – Poe was _always_ calm and together – but how could he be, if he had the Sight? If he saw those _things_ all the time, had those dreams? She’d been dealing with them for less than a month and she was already at her wit’s end.

“Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“How bad are the things that you see?”

He was silent for a moment, and he kept his eyes on the road when he responded. “I haven’t had dealings with Hell, Rey. It’s mostly just…things, here and there. Marked people. Beams of light. Nothing that follows me around. Nothing in my dreams.”

Rey swallowed. _Oh._ So he really _didn’t_ have it as bad as she did.

She touched her left temple, where Poe had said the Mark was. Rey pulled out her phone and Googled _Mark of Cain_ to see if maybe there was anything else she should know.

 _Genesis 4…cursed by God…murdered Abel…Cain will be avenged sevenfold._ None of that was helpful. She wasn’t cursed by _God,_ was she? She scrolled through, only half-understanding. The word “soulless” and “fugitive” and “affliction” came up before Rey put her phone down.

That was _so_ not what she needed right now.

As they neared their destination, she asked, “Do you think this will work?”

Poe glanced at her. “You beat him once. I _know_ you can be him again. Get the favor – get things to stop following you, disentangle yourself from him. You’ll be golden.”

Rey sighed. She really, really hope so.

* * *

They trekked through the forest. The sun was setting behind them, casting long shadows. Rey did her best not to look at them, to keep her eyes on the gold-tinged trees themselves. The old, one-room church came into view. Rey swallowed and ignored the fist of dread squeezing at her stomach.

Poe stayed at her side as they walked closer. The first gravestone was twenty feet away. Rey felt like she was returning to the scene of the crime – dread, anticipation, and trepidation all battled for dominance. The result was nausea.

“You can do this,” he said. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll be waiting. If you’re not back by tomorrow morning though…I’m calling someone. Okay?”

Rey nodded. She knelt down to re-tie her shoes, taking deep- steadying breaths. She rose, and looked at Poe. “Thank you. If I get out of this okay…I owe you one.”

Poe smiled. “You can repay me _by_ getting out of this.”

Rey did her best to return the smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

She brushed her hand against the gravestone and was off like a light.

She ran faster than she ever had, ran until her chest burned, ran until she felt her lungs would give out. She kept a hand fisted around her phone, silently praying that she wouldn’t drop it. She rounded a corner, was officially behind the church – the same place she was when Satan had appeared the first time…

She recognized the whirling of the shadows, the fading of the place where she was, the scenery blending and shifting until he appeared. He seemed to step out of the shadows, looking as intimidating and pissed-off as ever. The tattoos on his bare chest seemed to move.

When he caught sight of her, his yellow eyes glinted and his lip curled up, revealing a sharp canine.

“Crucified Christ,” he groaned. “Not _you_ again.”


	5. Favor and Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey tries to settle her score with the Devil. Things don't go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhh thank you so much for your lovely comments. I love hearing your thoughts and speculations about this :D

The girl stood before him, breathing heavy and eyes determined. A few wisps of hair had come loose from her buns, sweat-slick and stuck to her forehead. The Mark of Cain was branded into her left temple.

The Adversary couldn’t believe the steak of bad luck that had lead him to owe this girl a favor, _again._ And oh no – not just _one_ favor. She’d beaten him _twice._ That means she was owed _two_.

For the third time in as many weeks, Kylo Ren cursed the primeval laws that bound him.

“What do you _want?”_

“Those things. I want them to leave me _alone._ I want to be able to sleep. I want to get rid of the Mark of Cain – I want to disentangle myself from you. I want to be left alone.” There was true fear in her face. She had dark circles under her eyes, and looked altogether worse for wear.

The hellcreatures _really_ must’ve been getting to her. He could do that – well, most of it. She’d never disentangle herself from him, from the divine. She wasn’t quite human, and she’d made a bargain with him. She was branded for this life and the next.

But he didn’t tell her this. Instead, he showed his teeth with a grin. “So you don’t like my pets?”

“No,” she grit through clenched teeth. “And I know you owe me a favor –“

 _Damn_ those primeval laws. “Two, actually,” he said, completely unbidden. “You beat me twice. You get two favors. And you laid out _quite_ the list of demands, little bird.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I want to be safe. From you _and_ your fucking pets.”

“Me?” he said, voice saccharine. “What have _I_ ever done to you?”

“Cut the crap, Lucifer.”

He couldn’t help it – he laughed. The girl looked at him, incredulous, but her sheer _ignorance_ – he shouldn’t have underestimated it _._ “The Morningstar retired _ages_ ago, kid. I’m his successor.” At her confused look, he continued, “The Adversary is a title. Anybody worthy can fulfill it. Most of the originals have retired. We-”

When she interrupted him, he had to physically restrain himself from striking her. “I don’t _care_ -“

Irritation flared hot in his chest. “I’m offering you knowledge _completely unknown to man_ and you’re just _disregarding it?_ Crucified Christ, you’re stupider than you look –“

“Fine! If it’s so important to you, give me the knowledge _and_ the protection!” She was positively fuming. Her anger smelled like cinnamon; her heightened pulse brought that scent on, that something _other,_ that non-humane part. And underneath it all –vanilla. Her face was flushed with anger, her hair in a disarray and her request was completely within his domain.

Kylo Ren smirked. He snapped his fingers for effect. “Done.”

She stopped short, realizing her rash decision. He could smell the peppermint sharp tang of her fear.  Her face went pale. “What,” she said, “Did you do.”

“What you asked,” he said, false-innocence coloring his tone sour. “Knowledge _and_ protection. Congratulations, Rey Kenobi. You’re my apprentice.”

* * *

Rey felt her blood run cold. The world stopped. Her _heart_ stopped.

“Your…apprentice.”

Even saying the words didn’t make them feel real. She felt stupid, small, lost, like a newborn duckling.

His smile was cold, cruel. “You asked protection. The creatures will not harm me or mine. You asked for knowledge – learning is part of the position.”

“I have a life,” Rey murmured faintly. “I have friends. I can’t drop it. I can’t-“ the world was closing. This was bad. This was _really bad._

“Did I say you would have to?” he snapped.

“Last time I met you, I was gone for _two days.”_

“Time moves differently in the Seamstress’ realm. I’m surprised none of her pets have found you.” He cocked his head and regarded you. “Either you’re hiding very well, or –“

“They have,” Rey said. “Those _things,_ they’re in my dreams. All the time. They…” she trailed off, unable to voice the horror she saw when she slept. _That’s what drove you here in the first place. He said you’re protected from them. Maybe…_

“They won’t anymore. You are under my dominion – there are few who would harm you, fewer still who are capable.”

Rey’s mind was whirling. She wasn’t sure what to do – it seemed as if her first favor had already bene used, and she would cling to that second favor as if her life depended on it. But if she was safe from those things…

“And this is the only way?”

Her question seemed to catch him off guard, but he recovered seamlessly, “It is the only solution, yes. This will give you dominion over my “pets” as you called them, and will hide you from the Seamstress’ revenge. Don’t take her wrath personally. She’s usually a very sweet woman.”

Rey ignored his barb. “What do I have to do? As your…apprentice.” Saying it again left a bad taste in her mouth, made her feel like she needed a shower.

He shrugged. “It’d be easier if I showed you.”

Rey shook her head. “I have to get going, my friend is –“

“Oh?” Rey could hear the lilt to his voice, the curve of his mouth – there was something he knew that she didn’t, something bad, something _really not good._ “You have a friend? Here?”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to come alone?” Rey shot back. She was growing more and more agitated.

“Well then,” he said, voice oozing, “You best get back to your _friend._ The Seamstress’ hounds have followed you here – I suspect they’ll be hungry after such a fruitless chase. The _wendigo_ isn’t known for its patience…”

Rey frowned. “Wendigo? I – a _what?”_

There was something malicious in his eye, something challenging, something that made Rey think of the ringleader of a dogfight, watching in glee as the competitors tore each other apart. _Sadism,_ Rey thought. It was sadism she saw in him.

“One of her pets,” he drawled. He examined his nails. “You might want to check on your friend. A mortal doesn’t stand a chance against a wendigo – poor kid won’t even see it coming.”

Rey stared at him in horror. “You mean…”

“You’re wasting time,” he told her, teasing lilt to his voice. He waved his hands in a shooing gesture. “Get going, or you won’t even find a corpse.”

Rey bolted.

* * *

Poe saw Rey running towards him with true fear written on her features, even though nothing was following her. The only things from Otherside he could see were the typical nature sprites. He knew there was a banshee in the woods some ways off, but he also knew it wouldn’t bother them.

So what was she running from?

He tried to quell the panic rising inside of him, kept his breathing steady. From what he could see, the Mark of Cain was gone.

But she _reeked_ of the Seal of Solomon.

“Rey!” he called, jogging up to meet her. “What happened?”

“We need to leave,” she said, grabbing his forearm. “ _Now.”_

“What’s going on? Did you get your favor? What are you afraid of?”  He didn’t protest as she dragged him back the way they came. Nothing was following them, so…

“He – he said one of her pets was around. A we-wedingo, I think.”

“ _Wendigo,”_ Poe corrected. “And – they don’t come this far south. It’s a Canadian thing –“ Poe wasn’t sure if he was saying this to comfort Rey or himself, but he plowed on. “He’s _Satan,_ Rey, he’s saying shit to intimidate you. It’s what he _does._ ” Poe wanted to press her for information, wanted to know why the Mark was replaced by the Seal, but he refrained. He could see the top of it peeking above her neckline – it was probably branded onto her sternum. _But why does she have it?_

“Poe, we need to _leave-_ “

Poe wasn’t a runner. Not like Rey. He was fairly athletic, played intramural soccer with Finn, but didn’t possess Rey’s natural agility. Perhaps it was his relative clumsiness – or a stroke of _severely_ bad luck – that made him loose his footing on the wet leaves under his feet and trip, dragging Rey down with him.

“Shit!” Poe picked himself up and offered Rey a hand. “Sorry Rey, I-“ he looked up and stopped, his blood running cold. His heart stopped and the air froze in his lungs. Rey followed his gaze, equally as paralyzed. Poe heard her gasp when she saw it.

Looming over them was a half-human _thing_ with blank sockets for eyes and a wide, gaping mouth filled with needle-sharp teeth. Antlers rose from its head. Its body was emaciated, with rotting flesh peeled away to reveal bone underneath. The stench alone was enough to make Poe gag, but he found himself unable to move, paralyzed by his own fear. He wanted to shut his eyes against it, to will it away, to _ignore it_ as he did with all things Otherside, but he couldn’t. _He couldn’t._

“You see it,” Rey whispered. Poe made a strangled sound.

The wendigo lurched forward. Rey screamed. Blood splattered.

Poe almost blacked out on the spot.

* * *

Rey couldn’t believe what was happening. She was fueled by adrenaline and instinct and something else, something deep within her bones. Her hand closed around a sturdy, fallen tree branch. She braced herself on the ground and held the branch upright with both hands and _waited –_

There was a sickening squelching sound. Rey let out a shaky breath before looking.

The thing – the _wendigo-_ had impaled itself on the branch.

Rey dropped the branch, watching in horror as the wendigo fell to the ground in a heap of rotting flesh.

She took two steps back and vomited.

Poe was still crouched on the ground, staring at the corpse in horror. Rey looked at him, looked at it, and almost retched again. She forced herself to take a deep breath and waited for the panic to subside. She hadn’t known _how_ to do that, or even that she could. She wanted to chalk it up to reflexes and a primal survival instinct, but she knew better.

_She was Satan’s apprentice._

She turned to Poe and offered a hand to help him up. He took it and almost tripped. Rey didn’t blame him.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Yeah.”

The rest of their trek through the woods was blessedly uneventful. Rey kept her eyes trained in front of her and resolutely ignored every sound of the forest. Once the car was in sight, she and Poe hurried to it, slamming the doors behind them.

Poe let out a long breath, hands gripping the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Rey bit her lip. “Can you drive? Do you need time to....”

Poe shook his head and started the car. “I want to get out of here.”

Rey couldn’t blame him. She sat in the passenger seat and picked at a hangnail, _mulling_ everything over. His _apprentice._ She was _apprenticed to Satan._ What did that mean? What would she have to do? She didn’t want anything to do with Hell. Traditional Christian Hell or not, if that – that half-rotted _thing_ had been Satan’s _pet,_ she wanted _nothing to do with it._

The rotting smell was still in her nostrils, the taste of bile in her mouth. She shut her eyes against the memory.

Once they were safely on the main road, Rey ventured a question. “I…last time. When there was a truck chasing us off the road. You didn’t see a truck, did you?”

His mouth a thin line, Poe shook his head.

Rey didn’t press him further. She almost didn’t want to know what had been chasing him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah,” Poe said, voice morose. “Me too.”

* * *

The Adversary toed the wendigo corpse with his boot. It was a mangled thing – so far rotten that a blunted tree branch had pierced through its core. The girl had not only escaped with her life, but slaughtered a wendigo in the process.

Despite himself, he was impressed. 

The Seamstress appeared beside him. “That was a sneaky bit of magic, Kylo Ren.”

He shrugged, watched as the Seamstress lit a black match and threw it on the corpse. “I did as she requested. Protection and knowledge.”

The corpse – and only the corpse – began to burn. “You corralled her into that request.”

Kylo Ren examined his nails. “I lost an apprentice because of her. The least she can do is fill the void _she_ left.”

Maz _tsked._ “She owes me a debt, still. Don't think I've changed my mind.”

“It will be repaid,” Kylo assured her. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Maz. “But you will cease seeking vengeance of me and mine. We will settle this debt like civilized folk.”

Maz laughed at that. The sound rang clear as bells, and her humor smelled like fresh rainwater. “A year and a day,” she told him. “Your apprentice has a year and a day to settle my debt.”

Kylo Ren dipped his head in respect. “Thank you, Maz. I’ll see that she does.”  


	6. Atheists in the Trenches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against all odds, Rey has become Satan's apprentice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeep thank you all for such kind words and encouragement, it honestly makes this so awesome to do<3 I'm absolutely DELIGHTED that none of you saw the apprenticeship coming, it means I'm doing this right. I'm also glad that this fits the October vibe, it's 100% what I was going for.
> 
> Also, shoutout to LavenderKushKiss on tumblr for the conversation that inspired Rey's jacket :D

Rey and Poe sat in his parked car, silence hanging over them like thunder clouds. Poe held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Rey bit her lip. Poe wouldn’t look at her.

“So you,” Poe said eventually, voice low and steely, “Became his apprentice.”

Rey swallowed. “I asked for protection. I still have another favor, I…” she trailed off, unsure what else to say. She desperately wanted that protection after that wendigo incident. Her hands shook when she thought back to it, how she’d picked up that branch at just the right moment to pierce its chest.

Would she have been able to do that had she not met Satan? Would the wendigo even notice her had she not met him?

Poe heaved a sigh. It unnerved Rey to see him this defeated. “Do you know how this will affect you? Your life?”

Rey’s mouth went dry. “I don’t...” She hadn’t thought of that – in the moment, she’d been so angry, so deadest on getting herself _safe,_ and then on saving Poe, that she hadn’t had time to think in the long term. But if she could protect herself, protect her friends…

“I still have my favor,” Rey said. “I can still get out of it. I just have to figure out how.” Being his apprentice couldn’t be the only way out, could it? Maybe she could learn how to stay safe and get the creatures off her tail, then she could terminate the apprenticeship.

Poe exhaled through his nose. “Good. You’ll need it.”

The secret hung heavy over them. Rey knew that no matter how much she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to tell Finn or Jess or her grandfather. Something inside of her lurched at that. She forced it aside.

“Thanks, Poe.” It felt weird when she’d almost gotten killed, but she felt as if she owed him that much.

Poe nodded. “Stay safe, Rey.”

* * *

That night, Rey dreamt.

Unlike her previous dreams of horror and blood and gore, this was different. This felt just as real, but she wasn’t terrified. She wasn’t at peace, either. She was sitting in an armchair in front of a fire. The room around her was bathed in the soft orange glow. The walls were made of stone, the arched ceiling held up by pillars. It almost looked like she was inside a cathedral.

“Comfortable?” And Rey’s blood ran cold at that voice. Satan himself had materialized in the chair opposite hers, legs crossed and mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Where am I?” Rey asked, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the arm rest. “Why am I here?”

“You’re my guest,” he told her. “And you’re here for orientation.”

“But where is _here?”_ Rey pressed. “Is it – am I in –“ she couldn’t bring herself to say _hell._ Just thinking it made her blood run cold. “And how did I get here?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a great, exasperated, sigh. “You’re in my domain, brought here through the dreaming. Nothing will harm you here. It’s time you got…acquainted with your role.” He stood. Rey did the same, tracking his movements like a hawk. She wouldn’t let her guard down in front of him – apprentice or no, she wouldn’t trust him.

She followed him to the archway that led into a great hallway that was lit with torches. He paused at the threshold. “Even so…” he said. “Stay close. You handled the wendigo well enough, but I’d rather you not kill one of my pets.”

Before Rey could reply he strode down the hallway. Rey followed, trotting to keep up. She wasn’t used to this – feeling small and helpless. Her stride was large enough, her body quick enough, that others needed to keep up with _her._ The feeling was entirely new, and entirely unpleasant.

 _You killed the wendigo,_ she reminded herself. _You can do this._

“What…exactly is my role?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Think of yourself as…my left hand, so to speak. You’ll be handling the paperwork.”

Rey stopped dead in her tracks. “ _Paperwork?!”_

He turned around, arched an eyebrow. “Keep _moving._ Yes, paperwork. How do you think this place is run?”

Rey caught up to him, grumbled, “Not like a fucking office.”

He _tsked._ “You’ll have to forgo conventional notions of paperwork, kid. Yours will be much different. You’ll have to maintain an appropriate amount of chaos in the world, and you’ll have to compile the right…ingredients to do so. You’re responsible for tagging and reprocessing all damaged souls, and disposing of the rest. You’ll leave the remains to be collected by Beelzebub. If you’re lucky you won’t’ have to deal with him much.”

“Beelzebub?” Rey questioned, nearly bumping into him when he stopped short. A door seemed to appear before him – Rey was certain it hadn’t been there a second ago – and it opened with a wave of his hand.

“He’s…my right hand, if we’re continuing with the metaphor. Unpleasant most of the time.” He ducked his head and stepped through the door, ascending the stairs.

Rey hesitated, but figuring that she had no other choice, she followed.

“So… _where_ am I? I thought I’d fallen asleep.”

“I _told_ you, you’re here through the dreaming. Contacting you in your dreams is much…easier.” There was something in his voice, something that made Rey think he meant something else, but he was leading her into another room before she could respond. “You’ll work here.”

The room was expansive, with large windows, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and various paintings on the walls – all of the same pale, red-haired woman. There were several stained-glass pieces as well, a dozen in total, all depicting scenes from...the Bible, maybe? Rey couldn't be sure, but they  _looked_ Biblical, what with the angels falling, a serpent, a naked woman...

At the center of the room was a large mahogany desk. Upon the desk sat a huge book and several jars. There was a pen – a real fountain pen – and Rey’s hand itched to pick it up.

“Your quarters are through there,” he gestured to elaborately carved French doors.

“ _Quarters!”_ Rey rounded on him, thoughts of the pen forgotten. “I _won’t_ be staying here –“

He seemed entirely unfazed by her outburst. He arched an eyebrow and looked entirely unimpressed. “You accepted the apprenticeship – “

“I _asked_ for protection!”

“-and part of it will require you to stay here at times.”  He shot her a nasty look, annoyed at being interrupted. Rey had to resist the urge to stick out her tongue at him.

“I can’t just abandon my _life –“_ and she couldn’t, she _wouldn’t._ “I don’t have time to be apprenticed to _Satan,_ I have friends, and family and- and _class tomorrow!”_

The last statement was followed by a pause where Satan regarded her curiously, and Rey realized how he must view her life – the idea of going to college must also pale in comparison to eternity.

He shook his head. “Wherever did I say you’d have to do that? Your mortal life is but a day against eternity – don’t _give_ me that look, of _course_ the contract has extended your lifeline, and you’re not purely mortal to begin with. Your kind has gotten more and more naïve, it’s a wonder you haven’t gone extinct.”

Rey exhaled. _Eternity._ She was facing eternity – as an apprentice to the _devil._ Doing his _fucking paperwork_ and working with someone called _Beelzebub._

“And call me Kylo Ren, or “sir” in front of others. Satan is merely a title. You wouldn’t call a king “King” would you?”

Rey wanted to correct him, tell him that technically _yes,_ they did, it could be used as a prefix, but she stopped herself. She was in _hell,_ with the _devil,_ who wanted to be called _Kylo Ren,_ whatever that meant, and _she was stuck in an apprenticeship contract for fucking eternity-_

 _You have that other favor,_ she reminded herself, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Rey resolved to stick it out, to go with the apprenticeship and try and worm her way out when she needed to. But first she would learn, learn all the things that Otherside could teach her. And when she knew how to save herself, how to protect herself and her dreams and her friends, she’d pull a fast one on him.

Yes. Revenge would be sweet.

Satan regarded her with a half-smirk. “What?” she snapped.

He gave her a shit-eating grin. “Mortals are typically more conflicted when they figure out how deep they’re in.”

Rey glared at him. “I still have that other favor. Don’t think you’ve won yet.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “The only reason you’re here, little bird, is because I’ve lost.” And he looked at her with something deep and almost _doleful_ in his eyes, something half-sad and half-challenging. Rey looked away, embarrassed under his gaze…though she didn’t know why.

She cleared her throat and made to say something, _anything,_ when a creature that looked like living shadows glided _through the fucking wall._ It was roughly the size and shape of a human, but it looked like it was covered in tattered robes, it moved like roiling smoke. Its hands looked skeletal, but Rey thought that if she went to touch them, they’d be non-corporeal, like a ghost’s.

It handed a swath of deep purple fabric to Satan. He took it and said something in a language Rey could only half-understand, dismissing the creature. He turned to Rey. “Don’t mind the wraiths. They keep things running around here. Another one of my pets, as you call them.”

Rey frowned. “Why did I sort of get what you said?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“The words made no sense, but I know what you said to it. You thanked it and told it to leave, and to next time come through a door if I’m here.”

He seemed pleased at that. “You’re becoming more acquainted with Otherside.” He said it as if it were that simple – and maybe it was, Rey couldn’t be sure which way was up in this half-real place – and adjusted the fabric over his arm. It looked like a cloak, and it looked expensive.

“For you,” he explained, offering it to her. Rey frowned but took it. It was made of a smooth fabric that Rey wasn’t familiar with. She was sure there was nothing on earth like it.

“Made by the Wraiths,” he told her. “The hide of the Nemean Lion pales in comparison.”

Rey frowned up at him, unfamiliar with the term. “I…what?”

He gave a long-suffering sigh. “You’re supposed to wear it. For protection.”

“I thought being your apprentice _gave me protection –“_   Rey was truly frustrated now, past the point of anger and verging dangerously close to tears.  And she would _not_ break down into tears of frustration in front of him. _She would not._

“It does. As does this.”  He gestured towards it. “Think of it as...a contingency plan.”

She didn’t even bother to ask _how_ an article of clothing would offer her protection – at this point, that was the easiest thing to accept. Rey frowned at it. It was nice, sure, and well-made, but the fact of the matter was that wearing a cloak would make her look like she was permanently LARP-ing.

Not exactly an everyday look she wanted to go for.

“I can’t wear that around! It’s ridiculous.”

Kylo gave a long-suffering sigh. “Right. Your fashion has changed.” He waved his hand, and the cloak transformed into a black leather jacket in her hands. “Happy?”

“This will…blend in better,” Rey admitted. He looked at her expectantly; Rey shrugged it on. It fit her frame perfectly, and the faint smell of leather made it seem almost normal. The cuffs of the sleeves had intricate knot work – dyed? Rey assumed it was dyed, the texture of the jacket didn’t change – into them.

He nodded. “Keep it close. Now, I’ll show you the workshop…”

But his words were fuzzy, and Rey’s head was getting light, and she slipped from the dreaming into the half-awake world at the sound of her alarm.

* * *

Rey awoke the next morning oddly refreshed. She had a blessed few moments after her alarm went off where she was groggy and warm, and then –

The memories came rushing back and she bolted upright, nearly tripping as she hopped out of bed with the sheets tangled around her legs. She yanked herself free and wrenched open her closet door, only to see –

There it was. The deep purple leather jacket, hanging in the middle of her closet.

Rey felt a hot ball of lead fall deep into her chest.

* * *

 

The paintings on the walls are all Pre-Raphaelite paintings, like [this one.](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/JrHOPQsHGvE/maxresdefault.jpg)

The furniture is supposed to be reminiscent of Morris & Co, [like this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/69/b0/4a/69b04ab63daf2fceee5a4fed4310bd4e.jpg), and they're depicting scenes from Paradise Lost. (Rey doesn't know this, because she's a science woman, dammit.)


	7. Eyes Have Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey realizes she might've bit off more than she can chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crucified Christ, this is overdue. After working and re-working this chapter, this is...the result. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and support and fanart and love <3

Kylo left Rey alone the days following her visit, too exhausted to be more than a mere observer in the girl’s morbidly mundane life. Dream-walking took more energy out of him than he cared to admit. Her will was strong, and bending it enough to dream-walk was truly exhausting.

He reclined in a leather armchair, staring at a large painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a Blake illustration, one from the Large Set. Blake had been an interesting figure – Kylo would have to drop down to Death’s domain and see how he was doing soon. The images invoked an odd feeling within Kylo – watching the fall of the Morningstar was never something he could quite stomach.

Kylo sighed and massaged his temples. His life would be much easier if his predecessor had had his shit together, hadn’t formed that damned triumvirate when Lilith left. Her visage was permanently mounted to the walls all around his castle. When Kylo had inherited the place, he hadn’t been able to remove them.

He was lucky that Lilith had been a beautiful creature. He’d be luckier if Lucifer hadn’t driven her away.

Blessedly, the two remaining regents of hell – Asmodeus and Beelzebub – kept to themselves. Now that the War in Heaven had quieted down, and the End of Days wasn’t for another six millennia, their duties were few and far between.

_But Mephisto.._

The half-giant had something brewing, something that would undoubtedly fuck up the next half of the decade; Kylo just couldn’t figure out _what._ Mephisto was an _Elohim_ , one of the dead gods of chaos that had joined Lucifer in the War on Heaven.  He had a small but devoted band of followers, rebel angels who preferred the old ways, who liked to think they were the Horsemen. Hopefully War would put them in their place soon.

Kylo sighed. There was no point in dwelling on it now.

He rose, crossing the room to find his scrying mirror. He touched his fingertip to the surface; it rippled, and revealed Rey. She was on the ground, injured – _and she didn’t have on the cloak._

Kylo frowned. _What has happened to her?_

He watched as she recovered, limped over to the chain-link fence to support herself, but then –

 _Leviathan._ Half a dozen of them, which meant that their riders weren’t far off…

“FUCK!” Kylo roared, and – yet again– had to save his ass from Mephisto.

* * *

Over the next week, Rey left her jacket in the closet. Try as she might to forget about it, she couldn’t.

She never related to the man in _The Tell-Tale Heart_ before, but now she could empathize. She outright avoided her apartment as much as she could, and she slept fitfully. Her life was not her own, not anymore, not if the Devil himself could appear in her dreams.

Her dreams were blissfully empty...that is, until they weren’t.

_The shards of the mirror were at her feet; a creature with a hundred eyes and six mouths was pacing around her, probing into her mind, wanting, taking, and it hurt, oh it hurt  -_

Rey jolted awake, heart racing and body in a cold sweat. The memories of her dream were fast-fading, but the fear was burned into her memory.

Rey hugged herself. _You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay._

Jess was still asleep, and she didn’t have classes for five hours. Unsure of what else to do – and thoroughly upset– Rey laced up her shoes, tugged on a sweatshirt, and went for a run on the track adjacent to campus. Running would help – running always helped.

At least that hadn’t been taken from her.

The cold air burned in her throat and the wind whipped her hair in every which direction, but it felt good to let her mind go blank and run on autopilot. She was a mile and a half in, just on the cusp of the blissful high, when the ground shook so hard it threw her of her feet. She fell on her side, _hard,_ and skidded enough to rip her jacket and shirt on the coarse track.

Rey curled in on herself, waiting out the worst of the shakes. She was bleeding, her ankle was throbbing, her head _hurt_ – what had happened? She rose to her feet and limped to the fence surrounding the track and leaned on it, panting. She could hear screams in the distance. Maybe it was an earthquake – they didn’t happen this side of the country, not often, but it would make sense…

Rey’s eyes widened in horror as she looked in the direction of campus. A huge plume of yellow flames and thick, black smoke enveloped one of the taller buildings; people were screaming and running and sirens blared in the distance.

 _Is it a bomb? Fuck, did someone_ bomb _the school?_

Even as the thought entered her mind, Rey knew that she was wrong. There was no way this wasn’t connected to Satan, or Otherside, or demons, or whatever-the-fuck-else was going on. She made to get her phone, to call Poe and Finn and make sure they were okay, when _that_ feeling overtook her - the one with the bad taste in her mouth and the skin on the back of her neck prickling, the one she’d when the wendigo appeared.

Rey swallowed. She was alone, she didn’t have the jacket, and something not altogether human nor humane was nearby.

Slowly, Rey looked up.

She was surrounded by half a dozen _things_ straight out of a nightmare: massive jaws and clawed hands and rotting flesh and the eyes, fucking Christ, the _eyes had teeth_. Rey stood stock still, paralyzed by something more primal than fear. They crept closer, and closer, and Rey opened her mouth and tried to scream but no sound would come.

Suddenly, a whirl of purple flames appeared. Rey watched as they lashed out, striking the creatures as they fled, letting out bone-chilling screams. Two fled, seeming to disappear into thin air; one tried to take flight, but an invisible force dragged it to the ground and snapped its neck.

As soon as it begun it finished In the wake of it all stood Satan in all his hellish glory, holding the jacket and looking thoroughly pissed-off.

“I told you to wear it,” he snarled, thrusting the jacket at her.

“The – what the fuck – their _eyes had teeth!”_ Rey looked at him, hoping for some explanation, her nerves shot to oblivion.

“Leviathan,” he said, as if that were any sort of answer.

He grabbed her by her bicep, and one moment Rey was on the track and the next she was in an old abandoned room that reeked of piss and rotten wood.

Kylo let go of her and strode across the room towards a large window. Rey stumbled without the support, surprised to find her injuries gone, although her shirt was still ripped and stained with blood. “What _was that?”_ she repeated, following him.

She recognized where they were –an abandoned hotel a few blocks away from her campus. _Well,_ Rey thought dryly, _that explains the smell._

From here Rey could see the fire and smoke; she heard sirens, shouting, recuse helicopters. She fished her phone out of her pocket; no calls, no texts. According to the alerts on her phone, it was a pipeline that had burst underneath the STEM building; according to the news, a dozen were confirmed dead and several others were injured or missing.

Kylo frowned, and touched his finger to the surface; it rippled like a pond and the image shifted, only to restore itself. He cursed, then rounded on her. “Well? Get that on, or they’ll come here next.”

Rey scrambled to get the jacket on, shoving her arms into the sleeves and nearly dropping her cell phone in the process. “Who will come? What _were_ those things? How did -”

“The Knights of Ren,” he said. “Those things that had you cornered - those were their mounts. Leviathan. They tracked you - you’re lucky it wasn’t a Knight that had found you.”

“What are the Knights? Why do they want with me?”

“Apostates. Mephisto is their master. They exist to cause chaos in this world and the next. And you’re a beacon of chaos.”

Rey swallowed and did her best to quell the rising panic; the building that had caught fire was a STEM building.

_All because I didn’t do what he said._

Kylo frowned, looking outside his own window. “This is...surprisingly small, for the Knights.”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Rey snapped. “Those are my _friends -_ ”

“They’re mortals,” Kylo said with a wave of his hand. “Surely you realize you’ve risen above that?”

And Rey, fueled by guilt and anger and stress, turned around and punched him in the throat. He stumbled back, brought a hand to his face. Rey couldn’t read his expression – she was too caught up on the fact that she had just _suckerpunched_ the fucking _devil._

He looked at her with those yellow eyes, and then he started _laughing_ of all things.

“Oh, little bird,” he said with a wicked grin. “You I like.” He strode away, through the nearest doorway, and beckoned for Rey to follow him.

“Fuck you,” Rey hissed, unsure and uncaring if he heard. She was sad and angry and wracked with guilt, she’d just punched Satan, who, by the way, she was apprenticed to, some biblical monsters had cornered her – and it wasn’t even noon.

Left with no other choice, Rey followed him.

Rey stepped out of the hotel room and – to her surprised – found herself into a long, dark corridor, and she knew that she was Otherside. She had to trot to keep up with Kylo’s long, swift strides. A lead ball of worry had settled deep into her stomach - were her friends going to be okay? What about her school?

He made a sharp right and stopped before a large oak door decorated with wrought-iron vines. He pushed it open and ushered Rey inside.

The room reminded Rey of an empty cathedral, with high ceilings, narrow arches, and natural light filtering in through stained glass windows. At the far end of the room was a semicircular fountain built into the wall; the only sound was the water trickling into the pool.

Satan walked forward and stopped at its edges. Rey couldn’t tell how deep it was.

“Give me the jacket,” he said, “And submerge yourself.”

Rey glared at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You need to wash your scent off. The mounts will recognize it, and hunt you down. The water will – it’ll take it away. You smell. Walk in, walk the length of the pool, and come up.” He spoke as if he were talking to a child. Rey glared at him and bent down to take off her shoes.

Satan shook his head. “Leave those on. They reek of you, too.”

 _Your face reeks,_ Rey thought. She threw a dirty look over her shoulder and stepped into the pool, watching as the water rippled as she moved. The water was warm, and surprisingly soothing, and came up to her ankles. Another step, and it came midway on her shins; two more steps and the water was at her hip.

 _Relax,_ she told herself. _You can do this._

Three more steps in, and Rey expected to be treading water - but her feet remained firmly on the ground, even as the water rose above her head. For a split second, Rey panicked - how was she going to breathe? - but as soon as the fear came, it vanished.

The pool was much larger on the bottom than it appeared. _Walk the length of it,_ Kylo had said, so she did. As she neared the end, Rey slowed; part of her didn’t want to go back up. Down here, everything was calm, and she was never afraid for more than two seconds at a time. Down here she didn’t have to worry about apostates or explosions; down here, she could just _be._

But her circuit came to an end; the water seemed to push her unwitting legs to climb the steady slope to the surface. And when she emerged, she was dry, and breathless, and feeling strangely empty.

Kylo handed her back her jacket. “That should do it.”

Rey shrugged the jacket on, not really knowing what to say.

* * *

She still smelt like lavender, but the musky mortal scent of cedar smoke was gone.

It was for the best. He would have to formally introduce her to the Enclave by the next new moon, and the Knights would undoubtedly be there; Kylo didn’t know why they had targeted his apprentice, but he would find out.

In the meantime, some discretion was required.

He showed Rey – still half-numb from the Pool of Unknowing – to her quarters and instructed one of the less ugly demons to bring her to him when she awoke.

In the meantime, Kylo had some archdemons to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is...  
> yeah. this isn't my best work.   
> Concrit welcomed. 
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr at www.littlemanicmonday.tumblr.com!


	8. Orientation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah thank you all for your kind words and support <3
> 
> This is another build-uppy chapter, but next time there's gonna be, well, /more/

Kylo tapped the surface of his scrying mirror, scanning again for Mephisto. The _Elohim_ had mostly been a pain in his ass after the Fall, but this…

The Leviathan attacking Rey could be seen as an act of war, if Kylo so chose to frame it that way. Kylo wasn’t sure if he’d go that far, not yet, not until he knew what Mephisto had planned. He’d spoken with Azazel, who had promised to keep an eye – or several hundred – out, but Kylo knew it wouldn’t be enough. Loathe as he was to take such drastic action, he’d have to recruit the Nephilim again.

He sighed, and made to write the letter.

* * *

Rey sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, back against the headboard. She had never felt so tired in her life.

She’d hardly remembered falling asleep there, in the large four-poster bed. When she awoke, she didn’t feel rested and felt very, very small. Her exhaustion ran bone-deep, and Rey wondered if she’d ever feel normal again.  _Human_ again. She was doing everything in her power to keep her mind off of what had happened yesterday at school, so she'd decided to poke around the room - her room. 

It was the size of her entire apartment, with several large windows and various paintings – impressionist, she thought – hung up on the walls. The floor was marble, and the furniture was all a deep mahogany.  There were three doors aside from the entrance, all the same mahogany as the furniture; curious, Rey padded over to them.

The first led to a bathroom larger than her room back home. A marble tub sat in the middle; to the side was a large sink, a countertop, a mirror, hooks and shelves and, behind a paper screen, a toilet.  No shower, it seemed, but with a bath tub big enough - and fancy enough - to have steps  _built into the design..._ well. Who needed a shower?

Rey made a mental note to take advantage of that as much as possible.

The next door led to a walk-in closet that was mostly empty, save a large wooden chest in the back and two articles of clothing hanging off to the side: a deep purple tunic and black leggings. Assuming they were meant for her and figuring they were better than the clothes she was wearing – still the same she’d been wearing for her morning workout – she changed, pleasantly not-surprised-at-all to find that they fit perfectly.

Rey was about to open the third door when there was a knock at the door; Rey jumped away, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. She waited for the door to open, but instead a wraith passed through.

_So knocking is a formality,_ she thought sourly.

The wraith spoke again in that dead language, one that tap danced on the fringes of Rey’s consciousness, and yet she understood: _The master is waiting for you._

Rey sighed. “Okay.”  

Rey followed it through the halls of the palace, down a large staircase, and into a room that was surprisingly cozy. Unlike the ribbed vaulting and columns and marble floors, this had a lower ceiling, a carpet, and comfy-looking chairs by the fire place.

There was even a table piled high with food, mostly fruits and nuts. At the sight of it, Rey’s body seemed to remember that she hadn’t eaten in who-knows how long, and she found herself ravenous.

“Sit,” and there was Kylo, walking in. He wore deep navy robes that left his chest mostly bare. “Eat. You’ll need to eat our food if you’re to say here.”

“Right,” Rey muttered. She sat down at the table and popped a strawberry into her mouth. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten, and she couldn’t tell if it was her hunger or the otherworldliness that made it so.

He sat as well and regarded her. Rey felt a flash of self-consciousness, but stamped it down. He was the fucking _devil._ She had no reason to feel that way.

“I take it you’ve seen your rooms,” he said at last. Rey nodded, popping the meat of a walnut into her mouth. “I still need my stuff.” If she needed to stay here, she’d at _least_ need her laptop. She’d be able to get Netflix in an alternate hell dimension, right?

_Your cell phone doesn't work, dumbass._  She thought to herself. _You think hell's going to have wifi?_

Kylo reached across the table and took a blueberry. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. Anything that smelt like you was likely ravaged by the Knights – I doubt there’s anything left.”

“You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me. All of my stuff – my clothes – Christ, my _jewelry –_ “ okay, so Rey didn’t have much in the way of expensive jewelry, but there was on particular necklace that she’d gotten as a high school graduation present that was _beautiful_ and _had sapphires_ and was _white gold_  and had belong to her _grandmother_.

He cocked an eyebrow. “If it’s jewelry you want, that’s hardly an issue.”

“That’s not the point – all of my things – my _life_ \- my _family…”_ Rey had never felt so defeated, so alone, so _lost,_ so empty that she couldn't even muster enough energy to feel angry. Appetite gone, she slouched in her chair, wanting nothing more than to wake up a regular girl once more.

“Family? I thought you didn’t know who your parents were.” There was a curious tilt to his head, an angle to his mouth that suggested he had more to say on the matter.

“My grandfather,” Rey said. “He raised me. And _don’t_ start one what you think I am –“

“I didn’t bring you here to argue over your blood,” he snapped.

Rey glared at him. “Then what _did_ you bring me here for?”

She could hear it, the faintest growl low in his throat. He took a breath. “I brought you here,” he grit, “to discuss your apprenticeship.”

“Fine.”

She could hear the exasperation in his voice. “I’ve told you your duties: maintaining the appropriate amount of chaos and disposing of damaged souls.”

“What makes a soul damaged?”

He smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that. Come.”

* * *

Okay, so maybe showing her a soul _that_ damaged wasn’t the proper move on the first day; the girl looked a little pale, and she was hugging herself. But there would be worse – _much_ worse. She’d have to get used to it.

“Who did that soul even belong to?” she wondered aloud. They were back in his library, come down from the west tower. “Why – how does it even _get_ like that?”

“Ted Bundy,” he said. “And well – some souls are made bad. Some go bad, when they’re through the cycle too long without any respite in heaven. That’s all heaven is, really – a place where souls rejuvenate.”

“You’re telling me,” she said flatly, “That you have a _serial killer-rapist soul on display?_ That heaven is a fucking _day spa_ for souls?!”

He couldn’t help it – he laughed aloud. Her vivacity was something to behold. Oh, this one he _liked._

“In essence.”

“And that – that mold-like stuff on that, what is it?”

“An overgrowth of negative energy, wounds left to fester and rot – think of what would happen to your hand if you had a deep enough cut and didn’t get it healed.” He turned around and began perusing the shelves. “I’m going to have you do some reading, and then you’ll start on basic chaos balance.” He pulled out a book and handed it to Rey, stopping himself before he told her that the leather it was bound in was human flesh. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it, and she looked nauseous enough as it were.  He could smell her fear - peppermint.  “Soon enough you’ll be assigned your own Hound, and –“

“Wait,” Rey interrupted. “I get a – a dog? Like, my own dog?”

Kylo was beginning to wonder if he’d picked the most naïve mortal yet. “ _Hound._ As in _hellhound._ As in one of my _pets._ ” He selected another book and leafed through it until he found the proper illustration: a fearsome canine with fire in its main, fangs three inches long, and yellow eyes.

“Huh,” Rey said. “Sure looks like a dog to me.” She gave him a shit eating grin. 

He ignored her comment and pulled out another book, this one with a jewel in the center of its cover. “This too,” he said.

She read the title of one. _“Animam a morti._ You do realize I don’t speak Latin.”

He smirked at her. “Don’t you? You understood the wraiths. Reading Latin should be easy.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. “Fine.”

He crouched down and pulled a final book from the bottom shelf. “Here. This is some…history, you should brush up on.”

“Right.” She took the book from him, set the pile on a nearby table. He watched her as she surveyed the room, her eyes landing on the door that would leave to her quarters. “I’m going to need clothes,” she murmured, half to herself.

“The wraiths will help you with that. You…will not be for want of much, here.” He wondered if she realized that this was his _home._ He figured it would be obvious, but maybe she was too tired to realize.

“In the meantime, however, you have free run of the palace. What’s mine is yours, after all.”

Rey arched an eyebrow. “What, no forbidden west wing, no restricted section?”

He gave a small bark of laughter. "If I want it hidden, you won't find it. Now come," he placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her through another set of doors, "I"ve one more thing to show you..."

* * *

After he showed her where Beelzebub worked (Beelzebub mercifully absent, as Kylo put it), Kylo disappeared. Rey figured it was for the best – she was overwhelmed and exhausted, and in desperate need for a nap.

_And a shower._ She took the books – three inches thick, each, all bound in leather – and put them on her bureau. A quick poke in the closet proved that Kylo had been right – the wraiths _had_ taken care of her clothes situation, down to her underwear. She wondered how they’d gotten her bra size right, but decided against thinking too hard about it.

In the end she grabbed another purple tunic shirt and soft cotton pants. She left the jacket on her bed, and padded into the bathroom.

Two fluffy white towels were hung up for her already, ones she was almost certain hadn’t been there before. It took her a good five minutes to figure out which faucets did what – there were half a dozen of them, and some would deposit soaps or oils, it seemed.

While she waited for the tub to fill, she wandered around the bathroom, wondering what sort of toiletries there’d be. She was pleasantly surprised to find a comb – made from whale bone, but a comb nonetheless. There was another series of soaps and perfumes, a bath robe, and even candles.

Once the tub was filled, Rey stripped down, stepped onto the marble steps, and climbed into the steaming water, relishing the way it relaxed her muscles. She was able to sit down comfortably, the jasmine-scented water coming to her neck.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent in there, but by the time she’d relaxed, washed her hair, and relaxed some more, the water had gone lukewarm.

She climbed out, drying herself off with a towel that was softer than her blankets back home, and changed.

There was something humanizing about bathing, something that took Rey’s upside-down world and righted it for half a second.

She lay on the bed, wet hair curling around her neck, and reached for one of the books Kylo had given her. With nothing else to do, she’d better at least _pretend_ to read.

With a sigh, she opened the book and began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda fluffy-filler transitioning, but lose not your faith: we get more action soon!


	9. The Apostate Archangel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey meets some of Hell's denizens, former and current.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah thank you all for your kind words and support <3 A few readers requested a sort of demonology guide, so I'm going to get to posting one next chapter; there's not much mythology to know behind this one!
> 
> Shout out to lj130oct, who sent me a lovely message on tumblr<3

 

Rey’s brain hurt.

Okay, so Satan had been right: by some strange magic, she did understand the Latin. But it was taking a toll on her, and her mind felt like it was synapsing at all the wrong angles. She read until the words started swimming on the page, then she shut the book and leaned back against her headboard.

She wondered what time it was. She wondered if her friends were okay.

 _No. Don’t think about that. There’s nothing you can do from here._ If Rey wasn’t drawing those things - the Knights - towards herself, if she wasn’t bringing unholy terrors unto her campus, then her friends would be okay.

Right?

Rey stood, the marble floor cold on her bare feet. She’d have to figure out how to get a decent pair of shoes -despite being submerged underwater her running Nikes were caked with mud, and her old socks were damp and inexplicably smelt like sulfur.

So Rey padded through the...was it a-mansion? palace? castle? - barefoot. If she was stuck here, she’d might as well see what sort of place she was stuck in.

_Hell. You’re stuck in Hell._

Okay, but not really - right? Satan hadn’t _explicitly_ said where the souls of the damned were tortured, just showed her where they were stored and - what had he said? _Repackaged_.

Rey wasn’t sure how to take that idea. She wasn’t sure if it was more comforting that eternal damnation wasn’t really a thing, for the non-Ted Bundy’s of the world. 

She’d seen the library - what he’d called her _study -_ but standing in the expansive room, she couldn’t remember which doors led where. Many of them seemed to appear and disappear at random, conjured up by Satan when he needed them. Right now there were three, each made of the same mahogany wood. Upon closer inspection, Rey saw that each had a different carving: one had intricate details of an ivy vine, the other was in some kind of  baroque style with fleur-de-lis, and the third…

The third had an angry, snarling face carved into it, with snakes and flames and whorls coming out from behind it. Rey decided to leave that one alone. Something about it made her uneasy.

She opened the door with the ivy carvings.

It let her out into the halls, the flying buttresses and high ceilings reminding her of a cathedral. Light filtered in from the high, arching windows, and Rey wondered what was outside.  If there _was_ an outside. Seriously - where _was_ she?

She turned right; the marble floor turned to cobblestone, and it gradually led her downward. The air became cool and damp; a few minutes into her descent, and Rey could see her breath. Torches lit her way.

And Rey - Rey felt indestructible. She wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from, if it was her brain finally accepting that she was as close to Hell as most people ever got, that she’d _beaten the Devil at his own game,_ survived an attack by otherworldly monsters - shit, she’d _killed_ one of them..

 _Ha._ There was _nothing_ down here that could get the drop on her.

Or so she thought.

She continued her descent, but stopped dead in her tracks once she heard the screaming.

It was the sort of scream that made your blood run cold, an unholy sound that no man or god would allow to see the light of day. It danced on the edges of Rey’s consciousness, bringing forth the blackest, most vile depths to her consciousness.

Rey stumbled back, slammed the flat of her hand against the wall to ground herself against the hellish onslaught. She could feel it - the chaos, the filth, all the darkness in the world rush through her veins, cloud her vision, envelope her very being. She was disgusted, and ashamed, and -

And _powerful._

It beat behind her breastbone, filling her with a dark mirth, a gleeful sense that she was the one in charge.

And she _liked it._

Rey opened her eyes. The wailing had faded to a sort of background noise, and she felt drawn to it. It called to her like a siren. She took a tentative step forward, then another, the powerful feeling increasing as she moved forward, drunk on it. Whatever creature that was making that noise was in deep pain, and Rey wanted nothing more than to relish it.

A heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder, tugging her backwards. Rey struggled against it to no avail, and was dragged several yards backwards. The feeling left as quickly as it came, leaving her blood cold and her chest strangely empty.

Yellow eyes peered down at her. Rey pressed herself against the wall, panting, eyes searching for some physical sign of what had just overtaken her. “What just…”

“Though you are not forbidden,” he said, “I would not recommend crossing that threshold.”

Rey’s heart was pounding against her ribcage so hard she could scarcely breathe. She felt weak, and replaceable, and desperately wanted to cross that threshold if it would make her feel invincible again. “How did you know I was…” she couldn’t even finish; the power that had coursed through her was gone, replaced by tried and true _terror._ She looked at Satan helplessly.

“Your fear smells like peppermint,” he said absently. His grip on her shoulder tightened; it did little to ground her.

“Come,” he said, hand skimming over her skin from her shoulder to her wrist, tugging her after him. He was silent for their ascent, only speaking when they stepped back into the library. He dropped Rey’s hand and stopped in front of her bedroom door.

“You’ve been awake almost twenty hours, and hubris demons take the life out of you. I suggest you rest.”

Rey’s mind had cleared enough for her to recognize that he was - gracefully - changing the subject, but it had not cleared enough to be tactful. “What _was_ that! Why - where - how - “ _when can I go back?_

He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow. “I thought it’d be fairly obvious what a torture chamber looked like.”

Rey’s stomach lurched. _A torture chamber? For what? He mentioned a hubris demon..._

But he left no room for questions, opening her bedroom door. “You should sleep. Tomorrow, we prepare to meet the rest of the Pantheon.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her across the threshold. Before she could turn around, the door was shut behind her.

* * *

“You have to be prepared to meet the rest of us.”

Rey jumped, not having heard him walk in. “The what?”

She was lounging on a deep green chaise, one of the heavy books open on her lap. She’d read about halfway through that morning, in a desperate attempt to keep from wondering how her friends and grandfather were doing.

“The Pantheon. Think of them as the divine forces that control the universe.”

“Oh, great.” Rey shut her book and looked up at Satan. His hair was elegantly disheveled and his chest was bare beneath his black cloak.  “More people who’ll want to kill me?”

“You’re hardly significant enough to warrant that.”

“Significant enough that I’m stuck here because of the Knights.” Okay, she was being surly and passive-aggressive, but it was her third day here (by her estimate) and she was growing _bored._ After what had happened yesterday she was wary of wandering alone. The wraiths freaked her out, and there didn’t appear to be anyone - immortal or otherwise - living there either.

He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. “If you’d worn that jacket like I’d told you to -”

“If you’d be fucking _honest with me -_ ”

He glared at her. Rey glared right back. She refused to be cowed by him.

“The Knights aren’t part of the Pantheon. Nobody will harm you. Not on common ground. We only convene once a decade like this - it just so happens that it coincides with your...arrival. All other apprentices will be introduced as well.”

Rey frowned. “Why do you have to meet like that anyway?”

“To at least pretend we have some semblance of divine cooperation. It's best we all don’t kill each other.” He shrugged.

“And I need to be prepared for...what exactly?”

“You can’t be...obviously mortal.” He paused, drew a hand over his face. “The laws are complicated. I haven’t broken any, but you being mortal would mark you as a target.”

“And not going isn’t an option?”

“Unfortunately, no. You’ll have to blend in.”

“You’re so convinced I’m not human. Why is this an issue?”

“Because you _act_ human.” He said it as if it were obvious. “It’s considered rude to ask someone’s origin, but you need to lie.”

Rey shrugged. She probably should’ve been more afraid of him, of the idea that she’d be in a realm of gods and monsters, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to give a shit. Her brain had had its full of this fantasy world, and if she kept questioning she was sure she’d have a psychotic break.

But still, something had been niggling at the back of her mind, and she wanted to ask before he changed the subject.  

“All these paintings - who’s in them?”

He gave a smile that showed far too much teeth. “Lilith; Hell’s regnent before me. Before the Morningstar, even. Well, one is Fanny Cornforth -”

“That _cannot_ be a real name -”

“Don’t interrupt me, and yes, it was.”

Rey laughed, feeling sorry for the poor soul. “Who was Lilith? Where is she?”

“Power-hungry bitch who didn’t know the first thing about ruling Hell. I killed her.”

His tone didn’t allow for more questions; Rey resolved to research it further, either on a computer when she got home or in these thousands of books if she was stuck here.  There’d be no reason to have paintings of her throughout his home if he hated her enough to kill her.

 _Home._ It’d been less than a week and she felt sick. “I...do you know how my friends are doing? Can I chekc up on them?” _Can I go home_ was left unsaid.

He shook his head. “Not until after the Forum. However…” he stood, made his way to a large, oval mirror that was mounted to the wall. He gestured for Rey to come forward. “Here.”

He tapped his forefinger to the surface of the glass. It rippled like water and Rey braced herself, remembering her last experience with mirrors.

But she wasn’t subject to any horrors; this time, the image changed, revealing  Poe and Finn and Jess. They were in a car, but it was too dark for Rey to tell what road they were on.

“See?” he said. “They’re safe. The Knights wouldn’t go after them.”

Rey frowned at the image. “I guess…”

Before she could ask about her grandfather, he gestured for her to follow him. “Come.  Threepio will take your measurements-“

“ _Measurements?!”_

He cocked an eyebrow. “You need to dress the part, girl. Now _enough_ questions.”

* * *

Threepio, as it turned out, was a slender man with gold – _legit gold –_ skin and a predisposition for worrying. Rey didn’t think it would be possible for ethereal creatures of the beyond to have anxiety disorders, and yet…

He fussed and worried and doubled checked every single detail as he took Rey’s measurements Rey was surprised to find that Hell used the customary system.

She stood atop a stool, back straight and arms outstretched. He was now pinning a deep purple fabric all around her – Rey had no idea what he was designing, but based on some of the sketches in the little workshop, it was likely way too fancy for her.

He accidently pricked her with a pin; Rey gave a squeak in surprise, and a jar of pins fell over.

“Oh, mercy _me!”_  Rey couldn’t help but giggle, despite the pain in her shoulder; Threepio was the most human thing she’d seen in what felt like weeks, and it was comforting.

“Stand straight!” he chastised. He snapped his fingers and the pins filed back into the jar, and the jar righted itself back on the shelf. Rey watched in awe.

“Will I ever be able to do that?”

“I should think so!” he said, seeming amused that she even asked. “You’re the one who knocked over the pins!”

“I – I _what?”_

Threepio nodded, adjusting the various jars on the shelves. Once they were to his satisfaction, he turned around. “You’ll get a handle on it, mark my words. Oh, the old master, his magic was just _wild…_ ”

Just as they were finishing up, a wraith showed up. _The master wants to see you,_ it said, and somehow Rey knew it meant her.

She looked at Threepio, loathe to leave. “Will I…can I see you again?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course! If you wish, I can be your personal tailor. The old master had me permanently fixed here – I couldn’t leave if I wanted to, and the new master is hardly one for a wardrobe…”

Rey couldn’t help it; she laughed. She bid goodbye to him, and did her best to memorize the route to his workshop on her way out.

The wraith led her through the massive, palace-like corridors, stopping outside of a large ebony door.

Rey knocked, and the door opened. She stepped into the study, her bare feet meeting the soft red carpet. Satan was there with another man; he looked disheveled, whereas the other man seemed the picture of warmth.

“I – Sir, you called?” Rey demurred, not knowing how she should act in front of a guest.

“Meet my apprentice,” he said. “Rey, this is my predecessor.”

Rey looked at the other man, really _looked_ at him, and was almost completely star-struck. He was tall, blonde, and _beautiful._ His smile was more charming than Poe’s and his eyes – blue like the ocean, like the sky – were more expressive than Finn’s. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and his wavy hair fell past his collar.  Rey was suddenly overcome with a deep desire to please him, to get into his good graces, to have this complete and total stranger _like_ her.

“Um,” Rey said, completely dumbstruck. She’d never – _never –_ been speechless over a good-looking man before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. “I’m guessing you’re…Lucifer?”

He laughed, and somehow became _more_ endearing. “I haven’t gone by my Christian name in years. Please, call me Anakin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: so, I hate how sporadic this updating is. I've slipped into my first major depressive episode in a looong while, and I'm re-learning how to cope with not a mixed episode. So updates will be coming, but they'll probably be once a month. (I know, it's awful 3 but i'm trying!) 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think.


	10. Fine Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey meets Anakin, Kylo's predecessor. They discuss the Forum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah I'm back! 
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments, messages, and support<3 this chapter was a bit tricky - the plot keeps getting in the way, ugh - but I'm really excite for where it's going to take us :D

_ Anakin Skywalker. _

It wasn’t a name that Rey recognized from any myth or legend.  _  Lucifer, _ she knew.  _ Beelzebub, _ she knew. But Anakin? What kind of name was that? She’d never been as interested in world history as her grandfather had been; maybe if she’d been more of a mythology buff, she’d know.

Kylo gestured for Rey to sit. “What do you think?” he asked Anakin, black fingernails tapping on the arm of his chair. 

Anakin leaned back, steepled his fingers, and looked at Rey. She half-expected his eyes to be yellow like Kylo’s, but no - they were blue as the sky. 

Rey looked to the side and tried not to squirm as he regarded her. She never thought of herself as  _ demure _ before, but it seemed almost transgressive to stare back at him. 

“Human enough,” he said after a pregnant pause. “But not all. I’d keep her from the  _ Elohim _ if I were you.” 

Rey glanced at Kylo. “Elohim?”

“Old gods. You have something they want.” 

“That’s - I’m  _ nineteen _ -” 

“If you keep taking things so literally, you won’t survive here. Your  _ blood _ , girl. That’s old blood – older than the human race, that’s for certain.”  There was a razor-sharp edge under his voice that dared her to argue. Rey wanted to - but once glance at Anakin, and she demurred. Again. 

What sort of power did he hold over her?

Anakin smiled. Rey almost melted and nearly missed what he said: “It must be a change for you, I’m sure. You’ve created quite a stir, what with your debt to Maz....A pity – it would be advantageous to be on her good side.”

Rey had almost forgotten about the debacle with the mirrors. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I - yes. Last month I was just a student.” 

“Don’t downplay your role. Students become masters, after all.” 

Kylo began talking, but Rey hardly heard him. She was too busy trying - and failing - to keep a blush from her cheeks. 

Finally, Kylo excused himself and Anakin. Rey stuttered out a goodbye, (she did  _ not  _ ogle Anakin’s backside as he left.) When the door shut behind them she slumped in her chair and groaned, dragging her hands over her face. 

_ You’ll get into an argument with Satan himself, but the second his hotter predecessor shows up, you’re a puddle on the floor… _

Rey groaned. As if being apprenticed to the devil wasn’t enough, now she had some sort of morbid crush on the  _ previous  _ devil. 

_ Just hold on until after the Forum, _ she reminded herself.  _ After that... _ well. Things wouldn’t be normal, would they? But she’d be back, she’d be  _ home, _ and she was sure she’d be able to work something out. 

Right?

* * *

His conversation with Anakin had only confirmed his suspicions. The girl had something that Mephisto wanted, something deep within her bones, something that someone had tried very hard to conceal. Bringing her to the Forum would be a risk, but going without her wasn’t an option.

The next day he found her reading Edward Spenser, curled up on a deep green chaise. She looked up at him – briefly – when he entered, but otherwise kept her eyes stubbornly on her book.

He fell into an armchair across from her. “I take it you like Anakin?”

She blushed all the way from her neck to her ears. He smirked to himself. Though he wasn’t a succubus, Anakin elicited admiration from men and gods alike. The girl would be no exception. 

“Don’t look like that. You’ll be pleased to hear he likes you too. Our kind doesn’t spend much time  _ liking _ things. You should be honored.” 

He felt the question rising, could smell the hint of pine in the air that always preceded her inquisitive moods. . 

Instead, she said, “You really need to update your library.” 

He arched an eyebrow.  _ What is she playing at? _ “Don’t I?”

“Mmm. Middle English is a bitch to read.”

He stood, walked behind the chaise she was reclining on, and peered over her shoulder.  “Spenser is Early Modern,” he said, reaching over and plucking the copy of  _ The Faerie Queen _ from her hands. “And you need to see Threepio. The Forum is tonight.”

The sharp scent of peppermint filled the air. She knelt up and faced him, veneer of nonchalance completely gone. “And after? I can go home? This will be...over?” 

Kylo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if she went out of her way to be dense. “It will never be over for you, girl. Home or not. That’s a thing you need to understand. You’re touched. You bear the Seal of Solomon.  _ This is your life now. _ ” 

For a few moments, it looked like she might argue. She held his gaze, eyes flinty, chin held at a defiant angle. She didn’t quiver or quake under his gaze, didn’t blush as she did when Anakin looked at her. 

No - she looked like she wanted to slap him. A muscle in his eyebrow twitched; he’d like to see her try. 

She let out a breath, and the tension between them vanished in the blink of an eye. “Okay.” 

Kylo Ren was almost disappointed that she’d backed down. “Mephisto will not be there. Now go - Threepio is waiting for you.” 

* * *

Satan had gone over a list of do’s and don’ts – address him as “Sir” and be “polite” but “don’t be an idiot.” He both patronized her and put too much confidence in her abilities at the same time, and she had no idea how to react other than to occasionally, immaturely, remark that she wasn’t  _ stupid. _

Threepio had made her a dress that at first appeared black, but looked purple underneath the light. It was one of those dresses that Rey admired on the mannequin, but would never,  _ ever, _ actually wear; she was more comfortable in a jeans than a dress, thankyouverymuch, and  _ this… _

The deep neckline simultaneously completely covered her breasts but plunged almost down to ner navel, a fashion feat Rey had never thought possible. The skirts flowed around her, almost  _ gliding  _ atop her skin; a slit on the right side came up to her mid-thigh. Her back was almost completely bare, and the fabric gathered at her shoulders seemed more for show than to function as actual straps. A white-gold circlet went around her waist, intricately carved into whorls and knots. Thankfully, it didn’t limit her mobility. 

She was violating every high school dress code imaginable, and she felt  _ exposed. _

_ Maybe… _

Rey turned from the full-length mirror in Threepio’s fitting room and retrieved the leather jacket from the pile of her discarded clothes on the floor. Satan had said to wear it for protection, right? And if it made her feel less exposed, well, that was just a bonus. 

Two knocks at the door. “We’re leaving,” Satan called, voice curt. Rey rolled her eyes, and with one last adjustment of her jacket she stepped out from behind the screen. 

“Oh, it looks  _ marvelous,”  _ Threepio gushed. Rey only offered a small smile that probably looked more like a grimace. 

“That jacket won’t do,” Kylo said. He was wearing his normal attire: bare chest, black cape, black pants. Rey was almost envious.

“I - I’m cold,” Rey said. Believable enough, a much easier than saying,  _ “I don’t feel comfortable showing up to a gathering of gods wearing a neckline down to my bellybutton, thanks.” _

“You’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” he said. He snapped his fingers, and the jacket transformed into a chiffon shawl. “There. Much better.” He gave her an appraising look, walking around behind her. Rey felt almost naked under his gaze.

Unsure of what else to do, Rey said, “I feel like I’m overdressed.” She was trying to distract herself  from how vulnerable she felt. His gaze was intense on a normal day, but it was easier to ignore when her shoulders were covered and she had, y’know, a bra on. 

He was behind her, standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His fingers tugged at her hair, freeing it of her ponytail. She tried not to shiver when his fingertips brushed against her neck as he adjusted her hair around her shoulders. "Better," he said, half to himself. Then: " I’m underdressed,” he said. Rey stepped away, turned around to face him. He grinned. “Can’t break with tradition. Now,” he offered Rey his arm. “Ready, girl?”

Rey stared at his arm for a moment; she was certainly, undoubtedly, decidedly  _ not ready _ . Her stomach dropped and her chest tightened. His yellow eyes met hers and he gave a sardonic grin.

She wouldn’t be cowed. _Just tonight. One night more night of crazy, and then you can go back home._  Steeling herself, she took his arm. “Let’s go.” 

* * *

For the most part, Rey hovered at Satan’s side, alternatively staring at the black-and-white paneled floor or at the guests. The room was large and expansive, with large columns holding up the high ceilings, large windows revealing a starry sky outside. Rey had expected something more formal, but instead the Forum seemed more like a cocktail party. Creatures both monstrous and godlike milled about, but most stuck with their own kind; the only one who seemed comfortable moving through the crowd was a large man with blond hair and a perpetual, jovial grin.

Satan had been right - she was most  _ certainly _ not overdressed. Her outfit was downright  _ tame _ compared to some outfits. One woman wore an Elizabethan ball gown _ made entirely from human bones; _ there was another creature decked out in elaborate, jewel-encrusted robes, and yet another who wore nothing but strategically placed jewels. The most shocking for Rey, however, was a creature who had the body of a woman and the face of a cat. She wore a thin white material over her breasts, the fabric only slightly more opaque near her waist. 

“You know, staring is considered rude.”

Rey flinched. The speaker was a tall woman - no, a  _ giant _ woman - wearing chrome armor. Her blonde hair was cropped short, and her piercing blue eyes kept Rey rooted to the spot. 

Rey swallowed. “I just - I’ve never seen anything like it.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she inwardly groaned; had admitting her naivety been a mistake? 

The woman cocked an eyebrow. “This must be your first, then.” 

Rey nodded, desperately looking around for Satan. How had she lost him? She’d been next to him just minutes ago…

A heavy hand came down on her shoulder. “War. I see you’ve met my apprentice.”

The woman -  _ War - _ smiled. Rey couldn’t tell if she felt more threatened or at ease. “So the rumors are true. She really is green, Kylo.” 

Rey felt him bristle behind her, felt the air thicken with tension. “What. Rumors.” 

War grinned. “You’re not the only one the Knights have been harassing, Ren.” 

His hand tightened imperceptibly on her shoulder. “They’ve always harassed the Horsemen.” 

War smiled, showing far too many teeth for Rey’s comfort. “Yes, well. They’ve gone after -”

But who, exactly, the Knights had gone after would remain a mystery. A tall creature with gray skin and a scarred face appeared - almost out of nowhere - and War’s face warped into a scowl. The tension in the air became downright  _oppressive,_ so much so that it was hard to breathe. 

_ “You, _ ” she grit, hand on the pommel of her sword. Kylo shoved Rey behind him so fast she nearly stumbled.

“Me,” he agreed. He clapped his hands, and the room was plunged into darkness. 

That was the last thing Rey remembered.  

* * *

 

[HERE ](http://littlemanicmonday.tumblr.com/post/161553467563/inspirationreference-for-reys-dress-in-the-next)are a few visuals for Rey's dress inspiration! I'm...laughably inept at fashion, and I wanted to attempt to do it justice. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!   
> (Next chapter is gonna be...juicy.)


	11. Anathema

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh thank you all for your kind comments <333 I'm so excited to be continuing this!
> 
> Notes on mythology can be found at the end of the chapter. If you have any questions I'll do my best to answer them in the comments or next chapters :D 
> 
> ALSO shout out to dasfeministmermaid for baaasically being the best beta in existence and rescuing this chapter from the garbage can. (It's upgraded to recycling bin.) 
> 
> (Also - did ya'll see the TLJ behind the scenes footage? *heart eyes*)

_Anathema._

He’d recognize the telltale scent of menthol and camphor anywhere. It was an old trick - a dirty trick - and lowbrow enough that it had bypassed the peace wards and sent half the crowd plunging into chaos. The older ones - those present at the beginning, those who had _known_ Mephisto - kept their heads about them. The smart ones warped the hell out before the wards kicked in. The stupid ones…

The stupid ones decided that confrontation was the best move.

Kylo dragged Rey through the crowd, ignoring her protests. _How did he get in here…?_

“What’s - what’s going on? Satan, I can’t _see -”_

Kylo cursed. Stupid humans and their _stupid_ helplessness. _He_ wouldn’t be affected - the fear curse was more or less a bad party trick-- but, sooner or later, it would send her plummeting plunging into the same terrorized frenzy as the rest of the crowd, and then they’d be _really_ screwed…

He had to warp where Mephisto wouldn’t follow.

Kylo yanked her by the bicep until they were safely behind a column. He didn’t dare conjure a flame - nothing to draw any attention to them. Only peaceful magic was allowed in the Hall - how had Mephisto summoned the darkness? Why had the Knights shown up?

 _Why had he not smelled the telltale stench of sulfur before?_ He’d smelt everything - from the lavender scent of Rey to the whiff of whiskey from War, the tang of sage in the air indicating the peace wards. How had he missed it?

“Satan,” Rey’s voice had risen several octaves. “What - what _is that?”_

He glanced over his shoulder. Nothing - the fear curse was taking effect on her already.

They were hidden for now. But Mephisto wasn’t stupid. He would have set up wards to try and keep everyone trapped. Unless…

He might have one shot - go somewhere completely neutral. It would be a risk - there would be no protection - but anything was better than waiting for an attack from an _Elohim._

He clutched the terrified Rey to his side and warped away.

* * *

_In the darkness, Rey dreams._

_She’s lying on her back and staring up at a night sky full of stars and light; greens and purples dance across the heavens, creating intricate patterns each more beautiful than the last._

_“They’re fractals,” says a voice. It’s deep and soothing, enveloping her senses. “And they can grant you any wish you please.”_

_“Fractals,” Rey repeats, softly. She stretches her fingertips, only then realizing that she is floating in a pond. She moves her fingers out again, flicking them across the surface of the water._

_“Any wish,” says the voice, “in exchange for your blood.”_

_Something cold and heavy appears in her hand. Rey doesn’t have to look to know  it is the bone-hewn handle of a knife._

_“Blood?” Something is off. Rey isn’t sure what, but she knows - somewhere deep down, somewhere primal and old, that she should drop the knife and run far away from this place._

_She lets go of the knife and opens her mouth to say no - but she is no longer floating, she is sinking, drowning, her mouth and lungs filling with water and terror striking her to the very bone -_

_And from the darkness:_

“Rey...c’mon _girl, wake_ up…”

Rey gasped for air, dry heaving. Her chest burned; there was a sharp pain near her temple. She tried to sit up, only to discover she was suffering a bad case of the spins. Nausea overwhelmed her; for a moment she thought she might vomit. She was surrounded by darkness, no stars in sight.

It had been a dream, just a dream -

She forced herself to take deep, even breaths as the terror faded, leaking out of her. Her heart pounded in her chest and her head hurt, but - _what was that? Why was I so afraid?_

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder, steadying her. “Good. You’re up.”

Rey struggled against the remnants of fear. “S-satan?”

He shifted and removed his hand.“Took you long enough. Now get up, we need to move.”

“I can’t _see,_ ” Rey groused, the last remnants of fear turning into irritation. She felt around, half-expecting to find the knife. But no - just cool stone against her palms and musty, damp air. They must’ve been underground.

Kylo heaved a sigh. Seconds later, a small fire appeared in the palm of his hand. His cloak was torn and his hair was disheveled, his expression unreadable. His horns glinted red in the firelight.

Rey ignored the hand he offered her out of annoyance, standing on her own and fighting off the surge of nausea that came with it. They were in a tunnel of some sort; the firelight  affording them just enough light to see the darkness stretch on in either direction.

She leaned against the wall. “How did we even get here? Where are we?”

“Underneath. I warped us out when Mephisto showed up.” His words were terse, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “He released a fear curse - that would explain your nightmares.”

“How did you know I -”

“Don’t give me that look. You were thrashing everywhere. Almost gave us away.”

Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes - mostly because she knew the motion was likely to make her vomit. “You said he wouldn’t show up. There’s no point in being _stuck here_ if he’s going to follow me anyway.”

“I know what I said!” he snapped. “Turns out the bastard had other plans.” He took one breath, two, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t warp us from here - this place is protected by magic older than I. We need to get to the ley lines.”

Rey blanched at the thought of having to walk that far - not with the pounding in her head and the roiling in her gut. “Where are they?”

“I’ll know them when I see them,” he shrugged. “I’m not worried.”

“Easy for you to say,” Rey muttered, “You don’t have the world’s worst hangover.”

He rolled his eyes. “Brat. You’re concussed.” He set a hand on her forehead, and slowly, slowly, the feeling subsided.

“Would you look at that. Satan himself just healed me.”

He gave her an exasperated look and beckoned for her to follow him. The firelight hung steadily at his shoulder as they walked in silence, Rey too busy sorting out her own questions to make conversation.

 _Why did he show up? What “other plans” does he mean? And we’re underneath_ what _exactly?_

She was jerked out of her thoughts when she tripped over her hemline and nearly face-planted on the cobblestone ground. Kylo caught her by the bicep and steadied her.

“Sorry,” Rey said, embarrassed. “It’s the stupid hemline…”

“You’re probably off-balanced from hitting your head. I can’t fix everything.” He knelt down and pulled out a knife from a pocket in his cape. And although she hadn’t seen it, Rey knew - she _knew -_ that that was the knife from her dream.

Her mouth went dry and she heard the chilling voice echo in the back of her mind: _Any wish in exchange for your blood._

She held her breath as Kylo used the knife to cut the hem of the dress. She wanted to protest - Threepio had worked hard, and the dress had been gorgeous, and couldn’t he just use magic? - but she was too stunned to speak.

_Not just a dream, then…_

He looked up at her, frowned, “What?”

Rey blinked. “I - I didn’t say anything.”

He narrowed his eyes, but pocketed the knife and stood. “Let’s keep moving.”

Rey trailed behind him. The air was cool around her ankles and - though she hated that he’d wrecked the dress - it was much easier to walk in on the uneven ground.

But where had that knife come from? Had that been Kylo in her dream? He already owed her another wish - and seemed really put out about it - why would he give her an opportunity for another? No, it wouldn’t be him…

Before she lost her nerve, Rey said, “Uh, Satan? Where did you get that knife?”

For a beat, he didn’t answer. Then: “That knife is older than you or me. It came into my possession by accident - the original owner is still upset that I have it.”

Rey kept her eyes fixated on the back of his neck, watched the way the light reflected off of his hair. His shoulders stiffened when she asked, “Who was it? The original owner.”

“An old Sumerian god. Then the Witch of Endor. Then me.”

His tone didn’t allow for more discussion. Rey decided that she’d do more research later.   _The Witch of Endor_ was specific enough, and she didn’t want to piss him off - not when they were stuck in a damp tunnel.

Rey wasn’t sure how much time passed, but there was still no end in sight, no light from either side of the tunnel, no other corridor. Her feet were getting sore, and her head still hurt, and all Rey wanted was a shower.

He seemed in no mood for conversation, and neither was Rey, not really. She trudged on at his side on autopilot, fantasizing about when they’d finally make it back to his palace and she could fall asleep - and she was so caught up in her daydream that it took her a moment to realize when the firelight went out.

Kylo cursed and in one swift motion pulled Rey to him, so close that her nose was pressed into his chest, her legs between his. His arm was heavy and tense across her shoulders, fingers digging into her bicep.

“Don’t move,” he breathed, so close that his breath tickled her ear. “Do you feel that?”

Rey wanted to ask questions - wanted to press, wanted to know what the fuck was going on - but his tone was urgent, and she _did_ feel it - the air itself had changed, become thinner and colder. She was still blind as a bat in the darkness, but Kylo could see just fine.

 _Next time,_ she thought sourly, _I’ll need to ask for night vision._

“When this passes,” he murmured, “We’re going to run. My magic is - suppressed. Keep up.”

Rey swallowed and nodded, heart hammering in her chest. She felt it, the creeping sensation - like a thousand eyes were watching her and waiting to pounce. A nerve-wracking thirty seconds ticked by. She remained stock-still, Kylo's hand warm on her arm, her nose almost pressed to his chest. 

Sixty seconds. One hundred. And then...

_“RUN!”_

Kylo shoved her forward. Rey bolted, legs straining. The cobblestone floor wasn’t ideal, and the slippers were _not_ made for running, and she was _tired_ and _sore_ but she kept up with Kylo, fueled by fear.

What had Kylo called it? _Anathema._ A fear-curse. Rey wondered if this was the same thing.

Just as it abated, just as Rey was beginning to feel safe -

Something wrapped around her ankle with a vice-like grip, and she fell.

_Hard._

She shrieked, nails scrabbling against the stone in a futile attempt to escape. _“SATAN!”_

* * *

He  watched in horror as his apprentice was dragged away.

 _Fuck._  It wasn’t Mephisto himself - no, the _Elohim_ was too cowardly for that. He could smell the burning of Rey’s skin, feel the eyes on him -

_Dumah. Shit._

The Angel with a Thousand Eyes. If he didn’t get her away, and soon, not only would it consume her, but it would be able to enter his realm. But the world seemed sideways - his powers were suppressed, his senses dulled. He need to move and get out, but it was like moving through a fog.

_“SATAN!”_

Her shriek broke the spell - he could see her, and if he looked too closely at the darkness, he could see the eyes of the Dumah. He bolted - if only he could warp, this would be ten times easier - and desperately launched himself over Rey and into the body of the Dumah.  

It burned him like hot iron, the force of the collision winding him and forcing the Dumah back several steps. Kylo summoned everything inside of him, every ounce of that suppressed magic still flowing in his veins and channeled it into a lightning hex. He slammed the flat of his hand into the ground.

The hex struck true, illuminating the tunnel for a split second. And in that split second, he saw it.

Kylo Ren had been Satan for centuries, but never had he seen something as old as the Dumah. It predated humanity, predated the Morningstar, had lived in the primordial aether that had formed the Earth.

And it was _terrifying._

A veil covered the spiraling ram-like horns and the top half of its face; only a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth was visible. It had six arms, ten wings, and each part of its body was covered with eyes -

Eyes that had fucking _teeth_.

The hex landed and the Dumah let out a bone-chilling scream, stunned. Kylo grabbed Rey’s hand. “Do you trust me?”

He wouldn’t be able to get out of here - not with the last of his magic gone and the damned curse in place. And he couldn’t fight that thing, not now, couldn’t risk falling into another trap…

He could use Rey. But he needed her permission and absolute faith - without it, the magic would fail.

She was rabbit-scared and panting, dress torn across her shoulder and hip. He pulled her up, steadied her. She swallowed, looked frantically behind her at the Dumah; just in time Kylo shoved her out of the way of an oncoming attack.

They didn’t have time for her to deliberate. “ _DO YOU TRUST ME?”_

She nodded; he hefted her up and brought her wrist to his mouth.

“This might hurt,” he warned, and he used his nail to make a cut about two inches long.

Her blood smelt like iron and her fear smelt like peppermint, but that other - the thing he needed, the essence that would get them out of here - it smelt like jasmine, was heady and intoxicating.

 _Just three,_ he reminded himself. _Only three._ Any less and he’d be powerless - any more, and he risked her arm.

He pressed his mouth to the cut and breathed in the heavy scent, his senses flooded with her. He felt her heart race in tandem with his, felt her trembling beneath his touch, felt the blood pound in his veins. Her essence, her power, was his in blood and bones.

The world clicked back into place. He had power again.

He clutched Rey to his chest and fled.

* * *

Rey came to in Satan’s arms.

Her head pounded; her back ached from where his arm pressed uncomfortably into her spine.  They were somewhere in his palace - Rey recognized the arching support beams. She wondered why he hadn’t warped closer. She felt drained and heavy, as if there was lead in her bones. She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to.

He was silent for a time; his footsteps echoed throughout the corridor. “The spell gives me finite magic. I borrowed your power to get us home. We’re safe now.”

Rey wanted to argue - this wasn’t her _home,_ he could fuck off with his “safety” bullshit - but she felt so disconnected from her body that it seemed almost impossible to speak. She let out a faint grunt of acknowledgement and shut her eyes. She knew her knees were scraped and her head was sporting bruises, but she couldn't feel them, not really. 

He was silent for a time, then: “I am sorry for all of this. I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way.” He sounded as tired as she felt.

Rey didn’t have in in her to respond, and it didn’t seem like he expected her to. She was barely regaining the sense of being _here,_ of being _Rey,_ when he walked into her room and deposited her onto her bed with a surprising gentleness.

“The wraiths will be in to see to you,” he said, placing a blanket over her, “for now - rest.”

Rey wanted to question him, wanted to - to do _something -_ but she was so tired and sore, and the blanket was soft and -

And she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Links to Mythology Stuff:

[The Dumah](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumah_\(angel\)) (The Angel with a Thousand Eyes -appears in Babylonian and Yiddish mythos as a guardian of hell and angel of silence/death, respectively.)

[The Witch of Endor](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Witch_of_Endor): Summoned the prophet Samuel's spirit at the behest of King Saul. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. The Bridal Carry (TM). (Except Rey's not having fun and Kylo is dead-tired, but hey, it's realistic XD)
> 
> Let me know what you think :3

**Author's Note:**

> sooo...what do you think?


End file.
